


Journey to Existence

by CultureisDarkBeer



Series: Road to All Things [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cowgirl Position, Developing Relationship, F/M, Jealous Fox Mulder, Oral Sex, Parent Fox Mulder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnant Dana Scully, Pregnant Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Scissoring, Season/Series 08, Secret Relationship, Sex, Shower Sex, The cross position, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28794036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CultureisDarkBeer/pseuds/CultureisDarkBeer
Summary: In Season 8, Mulder returned to a world turned upside down. This is the story of how he worked his way back into Scully's arms.*NEW* Chapter 8 - Mulder takes Scully out and Scully asks Mulder to move in
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Road to All Things [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111088
Comments: 52
Kudos: 143





	1. Mulder

**Author's Note:**

> This is the next book in the series Road to All Things, but no prereading is required. This first chapter covers the episodes "Within" and "Without". 
> 
> In ch. 19 of Road To All Things, Mulder gave Scully a wrapped present. That gift comes into play in this chapter. 
> 
> On a side note, someone really has to fire whoever this tombstone guy is chiseling out these death years before they have a body in the ground. I know it’s done for dramatic effect and not realism, but come on, first Scully, now Mulder. Whoever is making these headstones is either from the future, psychic, or getting paid off by the Smoking Man for shits and giggles. What really gets me laughing is the thought of them calling the stone maker and saying, “Nope. Pictures and receipts won’t work. Crate the tombstone and ship it.”
> 
> Either way, the gravestone dude needs his walking papers. Until that body or ashes is 6 feet under, keep your chisel in check.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50846779501/in/dateposted-public/)

They walked naked two by two. Mulder felt as if his body was moving outside of his mind, like it was on a track, pre-programmed. Lowering his head to avoid a low hanging pipe, he took in the immense spiderwebs of wires and hoses, ductwork and catwalks. 

He had been inside a spaceship before, although not as an invited guest. For something as advanced as the ability to create life, the mechanics seemed almost archaic. Possibly because it was a mere transport ship for cargo. Equipped with a satellite lab... for the _merchandise_. A shiver went up his spine. With each intake of breath he inhaled what smelled like battery acid mixed with burnt oil. The ship itself was hot and steamy, like traveling through a rainforest. Mulder remembered well that the aliens liked it hot. That and their babies grow nails longer than Rihanna’s. 

The people mover stopped and out of the floor metal separation walls rose up between Billy Miles ahead of him and the young kid behind. The wall moved forward until it was flush against Mulder’s back. Cuffs closed around his ankles. More cuffs formed to encircle his wrists and snapped closed. Mulder didn’t remember getting the fastpass for the Tower of Terror. With a rough jolt and loud bangs, the metal wall tilted and rose him swiftly into the air, sending him flat on his back. Scully would not have liked the turbulence one bit. It then reversed until it locked, the metal vibrating his bones. A cylindrical case suctioned closed around him like a coffin with a sunroof. Panic finally set in. There would be no little grey welcoming committee. As the egg filled with the icy thick fluid, Mulder looked out the clear shell and saw the others lined up like him. Before the needle stabbed him in the neck and his eyesight tunneled and faded to a black twilight sleep, he felt the wormy tube slide down his throat, and realized he was in the same type of bays Scully had been on her spaceship in Antarctica. Guess he wouldn’t have to dress up anymore for Halloween. 

**Georgetown, Washington D.C.**

Mulder had been taken. Torn from her on the same day she discovered there was life growing inside her. The days passed by in a cloud. The night sky was how she came to speak with him. Looking up to the heavens, somehow she felt more connected when the blue haze of the day lifted to reveal their shared universe. Alive with raw energy she felt it vibrating, whispering in a way untrained ears could not hear, but all that echoed back was pain. Pain and the fear of more pain. 

Scully remembered Mulder saying that at night he always felt closer to the truth of what they were and that it exposed the fragility of their rotating rock. To him the night was when the curtain was pulled back, when they got to see out the window of the existence beyond. It was in those moments she would see his eyes smile and his breathing deepen just a little more, when his soul would open up through his scars and outside his protective walls. Now he was out there, captive to those that he once looked at in awe, that lived in the unknown limits, moving with the stars as the galaxies tumbled and darted, among the constellations who’ve witnessed centuries and millennia. 

She had to find him, but what more could she do when the powers wanted to close her eyes, silence her voice, and deafen her ears to the realms of extreme possibilities. Scully was ready to believe, but the tools had been taken away. The X-Files had been all but shut down with Mulder gone. Her nights were spent with Skinner and the Lone Gunman reaching out to all who would listen, that they might find a shadow blended into darkness, something left behind that might be the answer to return him to her. Let the stars break and the heavens fall, space and time bend and twist until it all shattered, Scully would be with Mulder again. She would find him. 

Night was also the time her subconscious would overtake reason. When her visions of him grew strong enough to meet their connection and what she saw, what she felt, a viscous sac, a feeding tube tightening inside his throat, sending more than food to his body, the emptiness of being without. Scully woke knowing she would be sick. This was how she endured each morning. 

Her hand splayed across her stomach. Still flat, though she already felt the life inside. It crossed her mind that the strength of her visions could be a reflection of her connection to Mulder, but it could have also been her own abilities bleeding through her reason, or maybe her unborn child had those abilities as well. Maybe they were reaching out to their father. Or maybe it was all alien. Scully’s stomach churned. She was going to be sick again. 

She made herself some tea hoping to settle her stomach, and the gift that Mulder had given her right before his disappearance caught her eye. Tucked away, on the shelf underneath the side table was the nicely wrapped package waiting for her. She hadn’t dared to even touch it since she put it there. She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of. 

Maybe her curiosity got the better of her or maybe she just needed to feel closer to him, but she reached for it. It was heavier than she remembered and there was a card she hadn’t noticed taped to the top. Carefully she opened the envelope. In Mulder’s bold flared handwriting was written:

Dear Scully,

You can always find me here.

-M

Puzzling, yet her stomach leapt with a hope she knew was not rational. She removed the wrapping and it revealed a mirror with an ornate gold leaf frame. A thunder rolled inside her and a storm of tears fell down her cheeks, their love story told inside each tear. Spoken in sobs, her heart told the truth, if she was going to find him, her soul would have to come to terms with the most real of pain. 

Why did he give her a mirror? Did he know he would be taken or was this given with some other intent? She cried till her eyes ached. He was gone. If she was going to find him she had to trust him. She looked in the mirror at her heated skin. Her freckles burning bright within the rouge. He was right of course. She had to accept her dreams as visions. Accept what he was telling her. The only way to find him was within.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50861714702/in/dateposted-public/)

Every day after, Scully started her day staring into the mirror. Finding him, finding herself, finding the courage and the strength to move forward, to dig out who she was from her core. To go against the world if she had to. No one else on the planet was going to, so she had to be his 1 in 5 billion and she had to believe. Scully took it one moment at a time, one button, one shoe. One harrowing, echoing, lonely step, with all eyes and whispers on her. 

Mrs. Spooky walked down the hallway past the bullpen, past the offices of control, got into the elevator and entered Mulder’s office. Only today, she found it being searched, dust bunny to file box. The rest was a blur of anger and frustration. The helplessness she felt was like trying to scratch your way out of a steel coffin. The lies, the coverup. It was happening again. Her and Skinner were walking on a tightrope and the powers were begging for them to slip so they could drown in the fiery lava pit of obscurity. Inbetween it all, her baby reminded her that they were alive, there with each wretch and cough, with each regurgitation of a sandwich better had it not been swallowed. Then she met Doggett.

*

The Bounty Hunter swiped Mulder’s passcard as he entered the FBI building. He had made certain he was seen in the skin of Mulder: by the landlord at Scully’s apartment, on the cameras of the FBI. Even said hello to security. He left Mulder’s stain in enough places to cast doubt on anything Skinner or Scully might dare to say. It also gave him time to plant evidence, falsify records, steal computers, laptops and anything else that might have proof of their plans. Leave no trace. Except the ones that obfuscate. The Bounty Hunter’s hand trailed down to his pocket. The Walther PPK. Damn. He’d have to go back to Mulder’s apartment and put it back under the sink. He had already taken his computer and placed the rental receipts inside the desk. If Doggett couldn’t put the pieces together, he might have to shove it up his ass so he could see it better. 

He had been in Mulder’s skin when he had shot the soul-eating man. Lots of eye witnesses. Couldn’t risk having anyone capable of bringing the dead or dying back to life when they returned the abductees. It was too risky. The dead must have time to transform into the supersoldier army they needed. He’d have more healers to eliminate, but first he had to ensure the complete annihilation of all evidence of possible extraterrestrial life. Even the humans that were a little too human. Gibson was next. What a bounty he would bring. The bounty hunter knew he would have to hurry. After all the years of the pure hell the man they were told not to touch put him through, he wanted to witness when Mulder took his last breath.

*

Scully’s heart skipped a beat when her landlord told her he had seen Mulder in the apartment building, but when she saw her laptop missing, she knew this wasn’t Mulder. She _felt_ it wasn’t him. Still, wanting him got the better of her. She had to prove herself right so she went to Mulder’s apartment. A place she couldn’t bring herself to go since his disappearance. 

The clacking of her heels on the hardwood ripped through the grievous silence. He was not there and neither was his computer, though his bedroom lay untouched. Scully scanned the room for clues, until her eyes rested on his dress shirt. She held it gently in her hands and everything else melted away. Within the stale acrid apartment air hung the ghosts of Mulder’s breaths, an air of excitement and unknown, as he packed to go with Skinner for Oregon. 

The shirt was clean; it had that freshly washed appearance, but his scent was all over it. Reality drained her. The baby brought her the rest of the way as she laid down on his bed. She needed more, she needed him. 

Scully held his shirt tight as if he might materialize inside it. The subtle striped pattern showed both masculine and feminine all at once, just like him. How the fabric moved with him when he had worn it. The linen of his shirts always had soft crinkles that were so much softer than ironed cotton, so much more tactile. She liked that about Mulder, how he himself had a need to touch and be touched. When you combined that with his warmth and emotional generosity there was so much he offered. He was the first to extend an arm, to lean in for their first kiss, to offer a well meant compliment or critique. He held her as if she were his only treasure, as if he could feel her love as easily as smell her perfume.

For the first time since they parted she allowed herself to be comforted by the thoughts of them together. She imagined the last time he wore that shirt. The way the collar played about his neck in the warm wind, the fabric close enough to show the shape of his chest and abs. It would have been pretty in any color on him; something Scully wanted to touch, hug, lose herself in, if only for a moment. The way he would catch her eye, then acknowledge it with a simple flex and wiggle of his brow, undetectable by anyone but her. A smile ready to light his face, one to match the gleam in his eyes. 

Her own eyes closed, almost feeling as if he was still physically by her side. She knew it would take her, the skeptic, to cross the line and shout his gospel off the rooftops. If that’s what it took, then she would cast away her own fears and disbeliefs, gather up his courage and stand tall against the watchers that disapproved and the judgement they felt entitled. If she had to lift the world with a single arm and push back the tide with only her mind she would do it and believe it could be done. For him. Because of him. The rain tapped rhythmically on his sill, the way it did the night they spent in his bed and she professed her love. Filled with the sense, touch, and sounds of his surroundings, her sickness subsided and she drifted to a peaceful sleep she had not known since… only for the visions to jolt her brain. Cold metal, needles, a drill through the roof of his mouth, another slicing open his chest. Mechanical and intelligent. Probing and forced defilement. Her eyes flew open and was met with Doggett.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50846784451/in/dateposted-public/)

Hours later and Scully was back at headquarters with more of the unexplained. She stared at the stone, and her body felt numb, frozen. Reality had slipped away and she had been sent to this unending purgatory where everything was turned upside down and inside out. Scully wasn’t certain how much more she wanted to endure when Doggett tossed the papers in front of her. 

The medical reports that Doggett uncovered were not any she had ever seen. Ignoring Skinner as he looked to Scully to back up the claim of Mulder’s “full recovery,” she read the details. Yes, she knew that his temporal lobe had remained damaged and full of scar tissue, but Mulder had said he felt fine. There were no more symptoms. His neurons had formed new pathways so he could function normally. Hadn’t they? He had not told her of any progression. These papers, they told a different story. A history of decline..

Why hadn’t she pushed to go with him to the doctors when she saw the MRI after they saved his lungs from the insects? Had she been in denial? What made her not push forward? Would Mulder have told her if he knew he was dying? Not if he had his reasons. If he knew he was dying, it might have been reason enough for him to decide to risk it all and step onto that ship. _Dying._ Had he known all along? Through the IVF, through their decision to deepen their relationship, was it all a lie? 

“Mulder was dying,” she whispered the truth aloud. Whatever the motivation behind the secrecy, whatever happened, the proof was in black and white. A clear record of his decline. Her head buzzed and she fought off the rush of lightheadedness.

Scully wasn’t buying what Doggett was selling until he said, “So far as to stage his own disappearance?” Yes, Mulder had done that in the past, but she knew. She was the one that had lied for him. He always reached out to her in some way. 

Scully’s tongue was working overdrive over her top lip and Skinner’s temper was coming to a boil. It was one thing for Mulder to be adamant about aliens, but for Skinner to be so certain. Scully delicately pulled at Skinner’s sleeve. He had to pull back. If this was all a trap, they were running right into it. 

*

_“We will find a way, Scully,” Mulder breathed hard onto her skin. “If I have to rewrite history.”_

_His mouth crashed down on hers, his fingers laced through her hair. Scully clutched his collar in a balled fist and dragged him down with her, against the bench seats of the buick rental, spreading her legs for him. Her lips, plump and wet, hot and perfect, needing no permission. His whole body buzzed. Mulder fisted her hair with one hand and dragged his free one between them, cupping her breast and squeezing hard._

_Her tongue invaded his mouth, melting every obstacle they ever had. She was so good at every move and reaction her body had to his. His hand moved farther south, pulling up her skirt, down her underwear, rubbing the fabric, creating friction that made Scully moan and writhe._

_Hot. Everything was hot._

_His face. His nerves. His heart._

_“You’re so fucking wet,” he said, pinching her clit through the soft cotton. She scraped at his shirt and arched her back, groaning into another desperate kiss. Their bodies faultlessly attuned the same way as their souls._

_Scully reached between them and grabbed at the thick hard ridge through his jeans, rubbing up and down. “Take them off,” she demanded through breaths, her tongue still in his mouth. He was trying to fight it, find composure. Instead he ripped her underwear away and stared into the heaven between her thighs. She was incredibly wet, as he watched her dripping just for him. Unable to control himself he swiped between her folds like he was at a crime scene, and took a taste. Smoldering honeysuckle. Mulder pulled away, flattened the backrest and lay against it. His cock a steady throb as he grabbed Scully by the waist, and sat her down on his face, his tongue plunging into her, penetrating her in one movement. Scully cried in pleasure and surprise, grabbing at his hair._

_He almost came in the chair as he groaned and murmured, “Fuck my tongue, Scully. Fuck it hard.”_

_Her hips rocked as she did just that, pounding him like an animal, the warm lips of her sex all over his mouth, her clit nudging up against his nose, while he lay a gentle palm on her ass. Happy craving noises leapt from his throat as he ate her. Scully landed fast and hard against him, and he lapped it all up. She clenched around him and her thighs shook, coming all over his tongue. It made his own orgasm begin to tremor through him like an earthquake. From his skull down to the tip of his spine._

_Without warning, Scully slid down over the rough stubble of his chin and down his chest, his abs, to slide around his cock. He couldn’t hold the pleasure in, breathlessly diggin his fingernails into her hips. Her eyes blazed with love and carnal need clinging to the bulge of his tricep, groaning with pleasure. She rode him like her mission in life was to use his length to split her in two. Mulder’s hips smashed up into hers as he drove inside her again and again, his cock rubbing furiously against her walls._

_“Mulder, you’re so deep,” Scully moaned._

_With his eyes shut tight he threw his head back, his cock felt huge as it jammed against her hard and unforgiving. This time he would give her that baby. Mulder screamed out as he came, “Sculllyy! Oh, Scully.”_

Bone crunching agony jarred him from the dream. Metal spikes pierced into the sides of his legs and arms pinning him to the metal chair. His eyes grew wide with fear as tiny needles, three on either side, raised and punctured his cheeks, injecting him with what, he didn’t know, but they pulled at his skin with tremendous pain. Naked and alone, even the torment didn’t compare to the waiting. The not knowing what was next was exponentially worse. It was immediately apparent that they had no concept of painkillers. Mulder was nothing, but a rat to them. With the needles in his face, he didn’t have much movement and could hardly see around him. What he heard was the screams of the others. There was no telling of time. He had no idea how long he had been incubating inside that egg-like structure. When his body collapsed from exhaustion, his dreams were only of Scully. 

When he woke, he felt the ship around him, listening. It was more than metal or artificial intelligence. The ship _was_ the alien. Devoid of much emotion, it was absorbing his thoughts. But if the ship was gazing into him, might he gaze into it?

Mulder closed his eyes and encased himself in darkness, trying his best to push his brain past the agony and focused on the stars he knew were above his head just outside the dome of the ship. He imagined himself floating through space. Felt as if his body was actually tilting and turning as the putrid stench gave way to fresh breeze. His spirit rose and expanded, and he felt the locks creak open, the bands breaking, he took a deep breath and then let his spirit rise upward drifting like a balloon filled with helium, and the pain lifted with his spirit. His body lay slumped on the chair of torture, his flesh and bone slumbering while he rose, like smoke, past the blinding lights and probes, to the roof of the ship and through. 

He could still feel his breath and heart, but now he hummed with electricity as his third eye opened to his soul. He saw the cloud covered the sky, streetlights, a city twinkling with electricity. The patchwork of houses and ball fields, airports and farmland. They were still underneath the Earth’s dome. His body rose till it hovered along the crystal dust of the atmosphere. There he got to look at the massive size of the ship, the wavering field of energy around it. Mulder did this several times across what he believed were multiple days, until he could peer at ground level, like looking through a window of a car out onto many deserts. They were collecting more abductees, but it couldn’t be for destruction because they wouldn’t bother with all the dissection. No, Mulder believed they were being prepped for the next phase of the project.

This was how he tolerated the acts performed on him, on the monotony of sitting helplessly as his muscles atrophied. That and clinging onto his memories of Scully.

Mulder believed the ship had lit up his mind again. Turned on parts of him that had laid dormant or died. He learned to use his mind to hear the ship. To listen. They spoke not in words, or pictures, but something he came to understand. Then, after an undetermined amount of time, Mulder felt another. One that spoke the same as them, but was not. Gibson. 

“Mulder?” Gibson asked out into the night. 

Mulder responded. Gibson was out there and they were communicating! It was slow at first, Mulder still trying to use words and form sentences, but then as he relaxed, he began to speak to Gibson the way the ship had taught him. Soon they spoke at lightning speed. Gibson told him everything that had happened since they last met and then more recently, about the bounty hunters, and then Scully. Scully was there in Arizona. She had found him. It made him proud and in awe and it also made him understand how truly desperate she must have been. She believed. And then he felt her. Home. The scents of lavender, vanilla, and citrus. The sound of her squeaky whine, music to his ears. He longed for the taste of her lips, her tongue twirling around his. The feel of her forehead pressed against his own. Love surged and swelled his heart. She was so close. And… and…. And she felt him too. Come on Scully, I’m here, see me. I’m here. 

A blinding light came from the the sky and Scully turned away from him to look towards it. No! Scully hear me! Out loud he shouted “Sculllllaaaay!! Sculllllaaaay!!!”


	2. Dovevi Tornare da Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers "Without" and "DeadAlive".

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50860362497/in/dateposted-public/)

**_"I am the resurrection and the Life. He that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live”_ **

The next 24 hours felt like slow-motion on acid after two shots of Tequila with a heroin kicker; then using cocaine to sober up. Scully returned home from the Arizona desert bruised and battered on the outside and the inside. Violent visions cluttered her mind with each moment of rest. The worst of them all, a saw ripping into flesh as Mulder’s precious blood splattered the floor like ruby raindrops. It penetrated his sternum and carved its way through until it cracked open and bared his sacred heart along with his other vital organs. Her answering machine broke her from the walk down Elm Street and reminded her that she still hadn’t spoken to her mother. Scully picked up the phone and made plans.

*

Time had no meaning in hell. When you knew there would be no end to your suffering. The lights throbbed and flashed, blasting through the smoky morning mist of the ship. Instead of starting his day with mud in a cup, there were metal forks extending into his nostrils, the cold tines clamping against his septum to hold his head paralyzed. Another arm approached with a drill tip and began to rotate. 

As Mulder closed his eyes and anticipated what was to come, his mind spoke to the ship, “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but I just had my cavities filled last week.”

*

The couch in her mother’s house always felt more comfortable than her own. Scully supposed it was the company. Her mother was next to her, covering her hand with hers, with all the wisdom of years and a life with her father. “Is this about Fox?” she asked, her face wracked with worry.

“Partly..” She felt her eyes burn and water as she fought to tell her.

“Dana,” Maggie said, reaching over to her and bringing her into a hug. “Don’t let yourself get so upset.” She pulled back to look into her eyes and Maggie snuck in a warm supportive smile, “It’s not good for the baby.”

“But how..” Scully’s mind scrambled. The only ones that knew were Skinner and her doctor. Did Skinner have a relationship with her mother she didn’t know about?

“I’m your mother,” Maggie answered simply. “A mother knows these things.” She brought Scully back into a hug. “Did you tell Fox? He must be thrilled.”

That broke the dam and Scully’s tears could no longer be kept at bay. “They took him! He’s gone!”

“Dana, what happened?”

“He went on assignment with the Assistant Director,” she managed to say between sobs. “and didn’t return.”

Maggie’s hand gently rested at Scully’s back. “Is this like when _you_ were taken?”

Scully took deep breaths as her mother handed her the box of tissues. She shook her head as she dried her eyes. “I think this is much worse.”

“So you never got a chance to tell him.”

Sully tilted her head back as if it might stop the next stream of tears. “He might not be the father.”

“You used another man’s.. Or did you.. Dana, I don’t understand.”

Scully shook her head. “I-It's complicated.”

Delicately, Maggie placed her hand at Scully’s knee. In almost a whisper, she asked, “There was something that Fox had been planning to tell you… about his health...”

“You knew about Mulder’s brain disease.” Shocked, Scully pulled away, feeling the dreaded pangs of jealousy. He had felt comfortable enough to talk to her mother, but not to her?

“Then he was able to tell you….”

“..No..they opened his medical records..” Scully explained. That was the reason for the gift. That’s why the card had told her how to find him. He knew he was dying.

“He wanted to tell you… he came to me for advice.” Maggie looked into her daughter’s eyes and with her own watery eyes said, “He may not have said it Dana, but he loves you very much.”

Scully wiped another tear off her blotchy cheek and nodded. She knew. He had never said the words, but she knew. They had traveled more distance than one could fathom chasing the extreme possibilities that the human imagination had yet to dream of, all the while tending to each other’s dysfunction. They were dependent and addicted to the other, to the pursuit, but for every reason that was pure and right. They were the anchor they held onto, but tethered to the other because of want, not need. Mulder was her friend, and much more, always giving his warmth, his consistent love and patience. That was why, a piece of why, she loved him so deeply. Why her nature trusted him before her mind could. Their love was tangible and flowed like a lava wave motion machine, back and forth to the other and in abundance. No, he never said it, but yes, she knew. His love for her was the reason why she was here and he… was gone.

**5 Months later...**

Life became a torture Scully was expected to endure. The not knowing if or when, creating agony her body didn’t seem capable of handling, but yet it did. Leading the X-Files without him pushed her far beyond limits and comfort zones, but immersed in the cases she found herself, her strength, and a courage to face her fears that she never had in the past. 

She was sitting behind the X-Files desk, Mulder’s desk, when she broke out in a sweat. Worry swirled inside her without even thought to guide it. Her heart raced and she trembled with chills like she had a fever. This wasn’t the baby, but what was it? 

Another flash inside her mind of the face distorting from Skinner to the alien bounty hunter; then green toxic blood, melting and boiling like the wicked witch and the Nazis from Indiana Jones had a going away party. Right down to their slick white skulls and black tar eyes. Those eyes still haunted her, like staring into madness. 

Scully’s hand reflexively went across her belly to comfort her unborn child. What will you become? She had to shake that off too. If she didn't stop she’d work herself up and be back in the hospital. There had already been too much risk to the baby’s health and questions of who the real father might be.. She took another long intake of breath. Stop Dana. This wasn’t helping anything.

It took only a few strokes of the keyboard and her nightmares creeped in, the testing and more that Mulder was going through… She had to stop for a moment and let her acid reflux calm, but then came the nausea, and the tension headache. Scully fought not to cry at work, fought hard not to let anyone see her struggle. The baby moved and it was time for another trip to the bathroom. 

**3 months later**

Every day he died. The moments replayed in her mind over and over. The condition they had returned, the slicing into the autopsies of the abductees, the nightmare of Mulder dead, only for it all to be true. Mulder had appeared to her in the moonlight. He had come to her just as her father did, to say goodbye, to reach out one last time before returning to the stardust. She felt his soul, the look on his face telling her all she needed to know.

Absentmindedly, she touched her necklace for comfort. The same one that had been around his own neck as he carried the same cross. 

Every day he died. From the moment she woke up, it replayed in her head. Every morning it was what she could have done differently. What could have been better. In her mind she lived out each scenario, again and again. If she only did this, if she only said that. If only she didn’t let that one thing happen, if only she put up a stronger fight. In her thoughts, she was saving him over and over, but they were only thoughts. Nothing she could do could save him now. If only she could allow herself to believe that.

It was Saturday. The weekends were always the worst because she was alone with her thoughts. Her only focus should have been on having her baby, but it didn’t make her stop letting Mulder nestle inside her mind in those quiet moments. Scully had opened the last gift that he had given her, but there was another, one that she had put aside, the one he gave her after the case out on Santa Monica Pier. She shuffled through her drawers until she found that little blue box and the tiny silver UFO. Two letters “V” and “Y” carved on the outside. Without thinking too much about it she set it on the kitchen table and gave it a spin. With the rotation, the UFO opened up and as it spun, three words appeared like a trick of the eyes with each whirling revolution. The words: I Love You.

Immediately, her eyes filled and she covered her mouth. “Damn you, Mulder,” she whispered under her breath. 

To distract herself, she leafed through the mail, mostly advertisements, some bills, but her eyes wandered to the other stack from Mulder’s mailbox. Ignoring them, she retrieved her checkbook and diligently wrote out each one. When she was finished, her stomach churned and so did the baby. The normal excuses of work didn’t suffice today. She had to deal with it. The first month she just paid his bills and avoided his apartment altogether. Then she used the excuse that she needed extra time to pack his things before she sent the landlord the copy of the death certificate to break the lease, but she had no excuse today. 

Scully gasped as the door creaked open. The place looked as if it had been robbed and then hit by a tornado. Everything had been emptied and overturned. She sniffled to hold back the tears, a throaty whine left her body as she cinched up her eyelids and then the rains came. The memories flooded back. Her extended belly told her to be careful as she bent and lifted, but she wanted to be the one to put the pieces back together. To straighten Samantha’s picture, to make certain Doggett had fed the fish like he promised, to fold his blankets and fix the pillows on the couch and bed where they had shared so much. Mulder had always left his life as an open book to her, so there were no surprises. His magazines and tapes made her smile, his baseball and basketball paraphernalia would one day belong to his child. On top of his bed she found a shoebox tossed over and ruffled through. Carefully, she put the items back. What was inside made her heart melt. Not his usual newspaper clippings or phone numbers or notes, but items he had put aside that must have been dear to him. 

There were pictures of the two of them in FBI jackets and in plain attire. A forensic photographer obviously enjoyed capturing the two of them on film, or else he took them for Mulder. There was the alligator they mistook for Big Blue, the beer bottle caps from watching Caddyshack, a pencil sharpened to the nub, his hospital band from the psych ward, a cassette tape of metal music, brochure of the Liberty bell and one from the Smithsonian, a mall directory where Tooms met his demise, a restaurant rib bib, the airline tickets from their first flight together, a used 9mm bullet, a green pine air freshener tree with “It could be Love” scribbled on it in Mulder’s handwriting. 

In this tiny box were a remembrance of the days of Mulder’s shadow casting down upon her, softening the volume of the orchestra of golden rays. Unlike other shadows, his never muted her colors, but instead a passing memento fading under starlit nights. His shadow, a reminder, that the sun did shine upon them; that there had been days the darkness had failed to find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will be posted on Saturday, the 23rd


	3. Wieder Vereinigen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place from the beginning of "Three Words" and carries us to the beginning of "Empedocles." When we see them in "Empedocles", some time has past because his scars are healed and her bump has grown. I'm closing some of that gap in this chapter and the next.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50866974872/in/dateposted-public/)

**2 weeks later...**

Mulder held his breath as the door creaked open. The place looked and smelled like Mr. Clean and Scrubbing Bubbles met up with some germaphobic elves. Everything had been set in place and polished. It made him feel like a foreigner in his own land. When she told him he still had his apartment, he asked her to take him there. Too weak to do more than walk, he let the pregnant woman carry his bags. 

Scully was pregnant. He had fallen asleep and woken up and so much had happened, so much time lost. Suddenly overwhelmed, dizzy, he closed his eyes, and he was back on the ship. Drills, saws, lasers, cutting, probing, defiling. His eyes flew open and he stepped back into reality. This was his apartment. This was real. And yet, it didn’t seem like his. Something was missing and it was more than a molly and his computer. 

“Something looks different,” he remarked.

“It’s clean.” she smiled.

He laughed and nodded. “That’s it.”

He noticed her picking at her nails nervously out of the corner of his eye, but he focused on his fish instead of dealing with it. This was too much and he didn’t want to relive it by telling her what happened. So he deflected. 

“Missing a Molly.”

“Yeah. She wasn’t as lucky as you.”

Glancing around the room he felt weak, his muscles quivering, the result of atrophy, he perched himself on his desk, and placed his hand over the empty spot of his missing computer. 

“Mulder.” The way she said his name filled him with the same anxiety and emotion held in her tone. He stared into her, wanting to listen, but at the same time not knowing if he could. The numbers didn’t add up. The IVF wasn’t a success and she was barren so how…. The shock of waking up to see her in that condition...

Scully spoke over his thoughts. “I don’t know if you’ll ever understand what it was like. First learning of your abduction, and then searching for you and finding you dead. And now to have you back.”

All he did was nod, pivoting his head like a lady’s razor against the legs of a Jersey Devil. He struggled to even make eye contact. He felt embarrassed and guilty. After all, he was the cause of all the pain in them. He tried to lighten the mood. “Well, you act like you’re surprised.”

“I prayed a lot. And my prayers have been answered.”

Mulder couldn’t help himself. What she had said struck him like a knife. He answered her, “In more ways than one.”

“Yeah,” she answered back.

He wanted to cry and scream, hold her and pull away simultaneously. The last time they were together, this was what he had wanted for her, he just didn’t expect to fall asleep and wake up and have it all already happen, still, as heartbroken as he was, she had his support, “I’m happy for you. I think i know…. How much that means to you,” he said, trying to rise above his own personal desires.

“It’s yours,” she mouthed without sound, rolling her eyes, wishing she had the courage to say it louder, but he was looking away. 

“Mulder,” she started to cry before she could get the words out and instead of throwing his arms around her and giving the love she needed, it made him angry and helpless. Yes, he was happy for her, but ever since she had asked him, he wanted her baby to be his too and now, what did that mean for their relationship, friendship, partnership? Did he even want to continue the X-Files without her? Before he had left, he was determined to help her achieve the life she deserved, and it looked like she did just that, but where did that leave him? The scar on his breast bone radiated pain and the vision of the circular saw breaking through his body flashed across his frontal lobe. He refocused and looked at Scully’s needy eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be cold or ungrateful I just, I have no idea where I fit in, right now, I just uh, I’m having a little trouble processing, everything..” He tried his best to explain, but knew he failed. He just couldn’t hear about how she met someone else, moved on, gotten another donor..

Her expression wilted and it drained him further. “You need your rest,” she said.

“I think I’d like to get back to work,” he remarked in the same steady monotone. “The sooner I do that, the sooner I’ll feel more like myself.”

He watched her chest rise and fall, her tongue comforting her lip. “I’ll get the paperwork down to Skinner,” she said. 

“And I’ll go lie down.” He gave her a weak smile and she returned it with an even weaker one. 

**Post “Three Words”**

First the aliens had tried to raise him from the dead and now the Department of Defense had tried to kill him. Mulder sat on his couch in a daze and closed his eyes. His body was healing at a rapid pace, but his heart was lagging behind. His reinstatement to the X-Files had been denied, the census data proved the devil walked among them, had infiltrated the FBI and who knew what other places of power. He had the pieces, but he couldn’t quite make the puzzle fit. They’ve been targeted because of their genetic profiles for abduction and replacement by alien facsimiles. It left more questions unanswered. 

Mulder massaged his skull. As pressing and personal as it had become, there were other matters, another part of his life where he had to find his place. The one he had asked permission to place on the back burner.

It was a Friday, late afternoon, when the florist delivered flowers to Scully’s apartment. Mulder trickled in close behind. A smug grin took perch on his lips like the cat who ate the canary and was hungry for more. “Who are  _ those _ from? Suddenly, to be so highly regarded,” he spouted.

“Having a baby does that,” she returned, basking in the attention from the unknown sender.

“Ah,” Mulder nodded. His hands tapped impatiently against the sofa table like he was playing a lone note on a keyboard. 

Scully looked up, having read the small card attached, her mouth agape and eyes bright, “These are from you.”

“They  _ are, _ ” he said boyishly. “They’re Peruvian lilies.”

“They’re lovely,” she replied, taking in the spotted pink and white tones, her nose deeply inhaling its nectar while she retrieved a vase and Mulder made himself comfortable on the couch.

She joined him shortly after, sitting down gingerly, resting one hand on her protruding belly. “I filed the paperwork to return all your assets to you and made sure that this month’s bills were paid.” 

Mulder knew the only reason he still had an apartment to go home to was because Scully couldn’t let go. Refused to believe he was really gone. “I was dead. I’m alive only because you didn’t give up on me, Scully.” Her eyes, crystal ponds, rose a fire in his chest. 

“My heart wouldn’t let me,” she replied. The words tumbled from her lips like loose pebbles bent on disturbing still waters.

“My abduction, Krycek and Maria, it  _ was _ a setup. I was wrong to trust them.” 

“All that matters is you’re back, and you’re a picture of health.” Her lips formed a tight line as her brows slanted. 

He understood the implication. The raw honesty forced him to look away. “I had every intention of telling you.”

“That’s why you gifted me the mirror.” 

Pain shot into his diaphragm like she had stabbed him with sharpened sticks. “Yes.”

Scully soothed her belly with her palm. “My mother told me you reached out to her. They were putting so much in front of me, so many lies, covering up the truth. I didn’t know what to believe. And then doing the cases without you, to have them look at me the way they used to look at you.” Her eyes locked on his. “I really learned to understand and appreciate how beautiful and precious you truly are, how you come at things without judgement, without prejudice and with an open mind few if any are capable of. I found my ground, my way, proved to myself I was capable of leading the X-Files successfully, but in another sense, I was still lost without you, Mulder. When you lose the person you trust, your sounding board for the truth..”

Goosebumps clothed his skin. “I remember when you were taken.. I was lost too..” 

“I can’t lose you again. It was hard to watch you the other week, running headstrong into danger when I had just gotten you back.” 

Mulder lowered his head, then bobbed it like a puppet on a string. “I know, but I can’t allow it to hinder finding the truth.” His eyes joined with hers. “Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, you’re in a very vulnerable position and I will protect you, same as you would do and have done for me.” 

Scully leaned towards him, her lips coming within inches of his own and he felt that familiar charge between them, surging lightning into his chest. Instead of a kiss, her arms slithered around him like smoke in a jazz hall and he hugged her warm soft body with everything he buried deep inside that had been waiting to come out. His lips brushed against her porcelain skin as he released her to meet her gaze. The idea of being so close to her lips without pressing his against them worked soundlessly on his heart. 

Her thumb skimmed his cheek. He flinched as it brushed his scars and suddenly he lost his breath. The phantom stretch of his cheeks remained, he still heard the hum of the machines and smelled its wretched stench. He knew, she wanted to touch them, examine and scrutinize. It filled him with a wild, unkempt anxiety. 

He released a breath when she didn’t touch him again, instead using only her eyes. His breathing stayed shallow, but then started to accelerate as Scully’s hand hovered down by his hip. She wanted him to lift his shirt to examine his breastbone next. Skin to skin. 

With the baby inside her being all that separated them, she wasn’t able to lift his Henley on her own and he made no move to do so, so instead she looked down at the marks on his hand. “They’re healing nicely,” she observed.

It had been a casual touch when her delicate hand laced partly around his forearm, but to Mulder, her fingertips were healing. Like spring over winter’s frost. He felt his cock thickening and he swallowed hard. There was more going on than a simple examination and some post traumatic stress. She had sent him into a sensual haze, his thoughts plummeting into an abyss of desire. As much as he wasn’t ready to slay his demons, he needed their connection more. 

“You want to examine the others,” he said more of a statement than a question, his voice low and strained.

“May I?” Her scent wafted toward him like a snowflake carried by a gentle breeze. Reaching deep within himself and with a tug at his back, he lifted his shirt off, exposing the huge scarring down his breast bone. 

Slowly, with a feather-light touch, her fingers drug down his sternum, disturbing the chest hair just beginning to regrow. Misdirected fear rose in his throat, leaving a knot he couldn’t bury. Her fingers were gentle, but they seared the sensitive skin, forcing memories of the saw slicing through flesh and bone again and again.

He glanced down at her and saw torment cloud her stoic blue sea. Then she leaned forward. Mulder’s eyes shut tight in dreaded anticipation. This was going to be difficult. He felt her touch first, and then her lips, an acute tenderness that set ablaze his emotions, but felt excruciating. He didn’t tell her to stop. How could he? It was Scully, caring for him, and he needed her love, her trust. 

She did it several times, following the trail that was burned into his body, doing what no one else could do, healing his insides, illuminating his darkness. 

Scully lifted her head towards him and he could see her face was wet with sorrow. Her tears affected him much more than anyone else’s ever did. “I had awful dreams while you were gone, Mulder. Your scars, these scars, match what I saw them do in those nightmares.”

Mulder placed all his focus on what she was saying. He knew how hard it was for her to admit those things. How much courage it took. “You had visions while I was on the ship.”

Scully’s face looked as frightened as a lost kitten. “Every time I shut my eyes... One night, out in the desert..” Scully took a breath, “this is crazy, but I thought I saw you, in the moonlight.” Then her eyes grew wide like a double eclipse. “Like you had come to say goodbye… that’s when I knew, you had died.”

It was like she had thrown a stone into his gut. He had reached out to her. “A visitation.”

“Something like that,” she muttered.

Scully breathed in hard again, and Mulder felt her hand massage the flesh at his clavicle, sending blood hurdling to his groin. An involuntary urge to kiss her flared and he forced it down. 

“What do you believe it meant?” He asked tenderly.

Her eyes held him hostage as her voice choked with emotion. “That our connection is stronger than we admit sometimes. That stress and trauma can send a mind into entertaining extreme possibilities as the cause.”

Mulder tried his best to suppress it, but he felt his blood pressure start to boil. “After everything we’ve seen, all we know, why is it so hard to believe your visions to be true?”

Scully blinked hard and he could almost see the knot in her throat. “It’s not.” 

His face remained a plank of wood, fighting the heat at his cheeks, he hid his amazement by a slow breath. He hadn’t been the only one changed by what had happened. He pulled her closer and she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Scully,” he breathed into the shell of her ear. Gently, he stroked her back and he felt her shudder. Then he heard her. Openly weeping. 

He kissed her hair, rocking her gently, while her body was racked with sobs. It was too much for anyone to go through and with Scully being pregnant, he could only stand on the sidelines and hope the release was good for her. When she began to still, he whispered, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He felt her kissing him, his throat, his ear. His hand pushed up her blouse and caught the feel of the skin at her lower back. A fire lit inside him. He tugged her earlobe with his teeth, then buried his nose in her molten hair. Darkness swirled around him and tore at him with its claws. _ That’s not your baby. _ He tried his best to fight it off, but there was no solace from that pain. Anguish erupted in his chest and hammered at his heart, threatening to rupture his sanity. Tears sprung to his eyes. For tonight, it would have to stop here. He pulled back and looked at Scully through watery vision. 

Her eyes on the contrary, were bright, filled with passion and hope. “I know you’re not going to tell me the significance of Peruvian lilies, but I think I know,” she started, dropping her hand from his chest and tracing his forearm with her fingers. “It’s a symbol of friendship. That you might always be there. A symbol that you trust in our lasting bond.”

Scully’s mouth rose in the way it did anytime she needed to bring a man to his knees, and it usually did. It forced him to clear his throat and create a more distant exchange. “And I thought they were just a pretty color.” 

As they held their gaze, their secrets swirled around them like spirits of the dead, casting long shadows. Dirty tendrils creeping out from dark alleyways. As much as he wanted to kiss her, to take her back into his arms, to claim his place, he knew there was more they needed to overcome. “How about I take you out to eat?” Mulder asked, searching for a neutral ground.

“Better stop at the atm,” Scully said as she widened her smile. “I’m eating for two.”


	4. En Verdad Te Amo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why am I writing each chapter title in a different language? I don't know. Seemed like the thing to do.
> 
> We are Pre-Empedocles in this story and Mulder is still a little lost, and attempting to recover from his time on the ship. He doesn't know what the situation is with Scully. Did she move on? Is there another man? Maybe he can get up the courage to find out... 
> 
> *Reader discretion advised*

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50888712982/in/dateposted-public/)

Mulder’s heart soared as Scully nibbled on her salad. Since he had returned, not a day had passed that she hadn’t made it a point for them to be together some time during the day. Panic knotted in his stomach when a fleeting thought passed that she might not be as eager once the baby and its father took precedent.  _ Deep breath, Mulder.  _ The Lone Gunman sounded like they thought  _ he _ was the baby’s father.  _ How could that be?  _ The dates didn’t match up _.  _ He had to follow up with them.  _ What if he is the father?  _ His heart rate spiked as adrenaline flooded his body.  _ It couldn’t be, he was…  _ Erratic lights pulsed and flashed in his brain and he was back in that chair, being choked by the tubes, chunks of his organs being removed as he watched..”

“Mulder.”

His name in her sweet voice pulled him out of his memories and back to the table, sucking the breath from his body like a swift kick to the solar plexus. 

It took him several seconds of breaths before he answered. “Yeah.”

The concern on her face sent guilt barrelling through him. As alone as he felt, he had never truly been alone. Scully had suffered as he did. Another flash of a different kind, crippled him. Scully, pregnant and suffering, weeping her heart out because he had returned to her as a corpse. That thought alone stripped him bare and left him raw.

**Scully’s apartment, one hour later..**

“During dinner, for a moment you zoned out, the look on your face frightened me. Were you having memories of being back on the ship?” She had thankfully waited until they were safely inside the walls of her apartment to ask.

“Yeah,” he muttered truthfully. “My, uh, my therapist asked if I would be willing to have you come to the next session. He said it might help.”

Her answer came swiftly. “Yes. Of course.”

He reached for her hand to assure her that he was okay, but also because he didn’t want to wait another moment without a physical connection. It felt good to once again have her at the other end. Her hand was cooler than his, but warmed the longer it sat cradled inside his palm.

“Have you been getting any sleep?” she asked and he appreciated the motherly disguised as doctorly concern. 

“Some. The television keeps most of the monsters at bay.”

That drew up her brow. “You’re sleeping on the couch again?”

“The bed is too big… now,” His voice trailing off. The memories flooded him as he squeezed her hand.  _ Scully. In his bed. Their first night. The night after his weekend in England when she told him she loved him.  _ His entire body flushed. Suddenly he felt her body very close. He inhaled sharply and Scully’s eyes darkened as she looked up at him.

“Yours is not the only one.” As she said it her thumb caressed his knuckles and it might as well have been caressing his cock the way his body responded. 

With a smirk he added, “Next time I’ll bring my toothbrush.” He could hear the longing in his own voice. He took a step closer and her breath hitched. The sound traveled straight to his groin.

Scully’s smile illuminated her face, but he could also see the desire flaming inside her eyes. Then her lips gently parted and her tongue flicked out to comfort her lip.

Mulder suppressed a groan. He wanted to kiss her, bury himself inside her, feel her walls cradling him as she writhed in his arms. The thoughts she stirred from such an innocent flirtation. It made him throb. 

“Do you still feel the same as you did.. “ Scully started but then trailed off.

“I do, Scully.” His voice cracked, anxiety rose up his body, choking him, darkness filling his chest like a rush of cold air and bringing him crashing down. He knew she saw the change and he forced himself to stay in the moment. His therapist had told him, when the flashbacks came, to connect it with something positive. All he could think of was the hope for them to get back together and by some miracle, have that baby inside her be his. 

Scully rose up on her toes and his anxiety rose with her. His chest tightened. She was moving in for a kiss. Cutting her off before she rose above his chest, he cupped the back of her head and tucked her under his chin. He held her tight and kissed her hair. The smell of vanilla orchids hit his nose and he kissed her again. _ Not tonight, Scully, because the night my lips press against yours, I won’t be leaving _ . 

**_Days later..._ **

Mulder sat in the bullpen stretching a rubber band around his fingers with his feet propped up at the corner of the desk and crossed at the ankles.  _ Best sexual positions when you’re pregnant _ splayed over the computer screen. Delegated to menial paper pushing, Mulder’s mind wandered freely, and mostly, to Scully. 

In a quick push, he swung his legs around and headed to the basement. A desk jockey was no way to treat a man that rose from the dead. 

The “B” illuminated and the doors retracted, Mulder headed to the file storage in the room adjoining the X-Files office. While skimming through some old cases, he could hear Scully speaking quietly to a male agent, but couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. As he got closer to the door, Doggett’s telltale abuse of the letter ‘r’ became apparent. As to not be detected he carefully twisted the knob to the closed door, but left it cracked enough to see the two of them standing by his desk. Both of them standing closer than what he was comfortable with. A continent apart would have been better. He didn’t like the way Doggett looked at her, adoring and hanging on her every word. Like she could be the center of his universe if she wanted it. That alone was enough for him to draw the conclusion that Doggett was not good enough for her. 

The outfit Scully had on made her look stunning as usual. Professional, long black knitted dress with a beige cotton blazer. It complimented every curve of her front. And pregnancy or not, Scully had a magnificent ass.

Crows pecking out his heart might have been less cruel to seeing the kind upward stare Scully gave Doggett, like a Corgi looking up at its trainer. It brought out a bitter sting in his chest. What could that man possibly teach Scully? Before the steam could rise out of Mulder’s ears, another sight kicked him in the diaphragm and stole his breath. Her arms around Doggett’s neck, his chin resting on her shoulder. Mulder felt the bile rise into his throat as a vice tightened around his heart. She was smiling so wide at Doggett it nearly touched her ears. What could he have possibly said to elicit such a hug? Mulder had enough. He needed more answers. 

He swung the door wide, interrupting them, Scully taking a significant step back to create space between her and Doggett. 

“Mulder, I didn’t know you were down here,” Doggett said, sounding almost arrogant, placing his hands on his hips.

“I can see that,” Mulder replied, his voice like a blade around the edges. First he took the X-Files and now his paws were on Scully. “I had to search through the archives. I also have some questions for Scully. Are you busy for lunch, Scully?” The question meant to be as probing and possessive as it sounded.

“It will probably be close to two before I’m free.” Scully pressed her lips together and gave him a saccharine smile. 

“Doggett?” Mulder asked, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest, daring him to join them. Meanwhile, Scully’s eyes refused to leave his own. Each trying to discern what the other was thinking. 

“Uh, no. That’s okay. I’m supposed to be meeting up with Agent Reyes,” Doggett said.

Mulder’s eyes narrowed at Scully. “Don’t forget your appointment at four.”

“I’ll be there,” Scully returned with a depth of feeling he wasn’t prepared for.

**4PM - FBI Psychology/Counseling Center**

“Dana, it’s good that you were able to come today. Mulder has relayed to me some examples of how he has been coping since returning from his abduction and illness, your name came up, and I suggested you join us for a session.” He stood for her to shake his hand and directed Scully towards the sofa where Mulder was already seated.

Scully picked at her nails and comforted her belly and Mulder could tell she was nervous.“I know my therapy sessions following my own abduction helped me and I hope they can do the same for him.”

“Yes and given your similar experiences, might also be why he has reached out to you,” the doctor returned.

Scully nodded with no response. 

“As a doctor you may appreciate the more scientific aspects of what Mulder is going through. Because his neurotransmitters are not currently balanced and a few other factors, his brain is processing differently. People who experience this type of PTSD have an easily triggered “fight or flight” response. You may see him acting jumpy or on edge,” the doctor explained.

Scully nodded and Mulder slouched down. He had to remind himself that he had agreed to being open and communicating.

“His body’s attempts to shut that down when he is experiencing these bouts may lead him to feeling emotionally cold and removed. Yourself, and his other colleagues, may have felt this distance or seen him exhibit strange, impulsive, or even unprofessional behavior. I know that he’s expressed to me his concern that you may have felt isolated or pushed away from him and that is not his goal. So I suggested having you visit a session so I could explain and you could ask any questions.” 

Scully glanced at Mulder and he shifted in his seat. She answered the doctor. “If there is any way I can help, I’m more than willing.”

“If Mulder remains open to accepting the help, it would be quite beneficial. How would you describe your relationship with Mulder?”

“We work together. We’ve been partners for over seven years,” Scully said matter-of-factly.

_ We work together. Is that it Scully? We just work together?  _ Maybe she had moved on. Mulder shifted again feeling his underwear riding up and suddenly his tie was too tight. He pulled at the knot.

“And you’ve developed a friendship over those years.”

“Yes.” 

“He also said you were his doctor.”

“I have been in the past.”

“Would you be comfortable and willing to have him approach you when he begins having attacks of anxiety, possibly nightmares or flashbacks?”

Scully’s eyes darted at Mulder. “I want to be there for him. That’s what I hope to get out of this session. How to best do that.”

Dr. Willis crossed his legs and scribbled something on his notepad, then stared over at Mulder for several seconds. He addressed Scully. “Would you be more comfortable discussing this if Mulder waited outside?” He leaned his body to the side of his chair favoring Scully. “We could speak on more technical terms.”

Mulder didn’t wait for Scully to respond, he already knew her answer. He sprung off the couch. “I’ll be outside.” Before he left he gave Scully a long look, trying to convey to her how much it meant to him that she had come. That he wanted her to see that he was willing to do whatever it took for them to get back to the place they were before the ship.

After the door closed, the doctor handed Scully a book on cognitive behavioral and cognitive processing therapy. “He would do well to practice massage and breathing techniques. They relax the mind and body and in time, can decrease the negative thoughts. Another is for him to think about something positive to associate with when he recalls the trauma. You can help introduce those thoughts. There are also medications that can be prescribed, but he seems determined to conquer this without medication.”

“But the focus is primarily on changing the thought patterns,” Scully concluded.

“Getting those neurotransmitters back in balance. He will need to accept all the things that were beyond his control so he can move forward, understanding and accepting that, deep down, it wasn't his fault, despite the things he did or didn't do. Using these techniques, it will still take about three months before you begin to see a shift.”

Scully’s eyes diverted to the floor as she took a hard swallow. “What about romantic relationships? Should he steer clear for a certain period of time?”

The doctor laughed. “Are you planning on setting him up on a date?” Then he paused. “Actually, that may be beneficial. When he thinks of what happened, reverts to his memories, if he can associate them with a positive action, he can begin to heal.”

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50889474511/in/dateposted-public/)

“Thank you for driving me home,” Scully said, as they pulled onto the street and towards her apartment.

Mulder twisted his hand around the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Thank you for attending my therapy session. What did you two talk about in there?” He tried to sound cool, but his eagerness was not lost on Scully. 

“Reviewed different techniques, how I could be more supportive.”

Mulder tilted his head. “Sometimes, the flashbacks, nightmares, and anxiety attacks seemed to be subsiding. Almost as if my mental trauma is healing with my physical wounds. Then others, it is like I just got off the ship.” 

“No one should expect you to heal at any pace, Mulder. He said it should take at least three months before you might begin to feel progress.. but Mulder, however long it takes, or even if you always have certain anxieties, depression, that’s okay. There is no right and wrong.”

Mulder didn’t know how to respond so he simply nodded. If only it was as simple as time passing or even the acceptance that time couldn’t be rewound, but there was more. A lot more.

The rest of the drive was met with a comfortable silence. It was so quiet he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. A quick glance in her direction revealed her eyes were closed, then, as if feeling his gaze, she opened them and a small smile curved her lips. She reached out and grasped his hand before once again closing her eyes.  _ Did he just hear her sigh? _ Mulder considered how Scully seemed more willing than ever to follow him. Now, she seemed invested, even with her interest in helping him work through his trauma.  _ It couldn’t be that her interest in helping him was only in relation to their shared past, their friendship. _ So many weeks had passed for her and so much of her life he had missed. Did he have a right to demand she make a choice? Did he have it in him to take that leap of faith and put himself out there? Was he just going to sit there and let another night go by without even asking? Just let her walk into that apartment without saying anything? 

When they pulled up to Scully’s apartment, Mulder gathered up some courage and asked, “Do you still have my files on your laptop? When I was searching through the archives today I didn’t see them and I had some on my hard drive that left with my computer.”

“Actually, they took my laptop as well… buuuuut, I did have a backup hard drive and I was able to reload it into my new laptop.” Scully gave him a smile that sent a cascading warmth through his insides. “Come on up and get what you need.”

_ Don’t tempt me Scully. _

Once inside, Scully took off her coat and headed to the bathroom. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to use my laptop. You already know the password.”

Pushing the image of Scully standing under a hot steaming shower naked and wet out of his mind, Mulder headed straight to her desk and sat down on the hard backed wood chair. A couple swipes at the keyboard and a quick search and Mulder was faced with two folders with his name on it. He considered doing a round of eenie meenie, but in the end just clicked on the top folder. The file names were all dates. In fact there was a file for every day going as far back as a week after his abduction. It had his name on it, so he picked one at random and opened it. 

_ Mulder,  _

_ I have to believe you’re out there, alive. That belief is what keeps me moving, keeps me taking those leaps to solve the next X-File. I miss you with every breath, and I refuse to give up hope. We will be together.  _

_ Today’s case led us to Indiana, you’re going to laugh when you hear what I told Doggett….  _

__

He closed that file and opened another. He didn’t want to know about her and Doggett. There were more, lots more, covering cases, days off, shopping, hospital visits. Mulder couldn’t read fast enough and couldn’t stop either. He opened one dated during the time he was buried in the ground. It read:

_ Mulder, _

_ Some days I question why I continue writing to you. In the beginning I believe it was because I didn’t want to let go. Other days it felt like you were closer when I did, like somehow, you could still hear me. Now maybe I write them so my baby may one day read them and know what you meant to me, what our relationship was like so one day they might be blessed to find the same. I prayed daily for your return and lately, I pray even harder. _

_ I was going through my old answering machine tapes, my voicemails from my cell. I decided to take all the ones I have and put them on a cassette tape so the baby can hear your voice, know what you sounded like when I tell them about you. Tell them of the love of my life, my perfect other, and how I found him and how he gave his life for us, so that we may live.  _

_ I spoke in the past about driving in our endless straight line and now that I can look back on it with a clear mind, I understand that night in Oregon when you said it had to end sometime, in essence, you were throwing me out of the car.  _

_ I became pregnant with the full intent to raise this child on my own, to take on the full responsibility. Marriage was nothing I ever strived for even if the possibility of being married never strayed. I put myself, my career, the work, before those things. It was something that might or could, but nothing I truly needed. Now, when I look in the mirror, I know, you were the only one I would have ever considered that kind of commitment with. Now, that chapter of my life is forever closed without ever being written. You were my partner Mulder, in work, in love, in life. _

“Did you find what you were searching for?” Scully said, and Mulder practically jumped right out of his skin. He spun in the chair and stood to face her. His fears turned to joy. She was beautiful, radiant, standing there in her robe, casually drying her crimson locks with a towel. And those legs, those little legs, and how they felt wrapped around him…  _ Scully in love.. with him _ . His heart swelled, lighting him from head to toe, spreading warmth in its wake. A kaleidoscope of emotions ran over every part of him like a raging river, healing the cracks, filling and overflowing the voids.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice low as he barely got the sound out.  _ He had found exactly what he was searching for. _ He cupped her face as she searched his eyes. He watched the desire that raged in him ignite inside her. Losing that last thread of restraint, he tilted her head up towards him and his lips crashed on top of hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth, his jaw rocking in time with hers, their kisses desperate, almost frantic.

Despite the insatiable hunger he felt, he pulled back to judge her reaction. Her eyes were soft in their gaze, but then her lids lowered and her eyes transformed to blue steel. Before he was able to speak, her fingers were in his hair, pulling him back down, kissing him hard, deep, unleashing unrestrained need and a passion that sent the crown of his cock swelling and brushing the seam of his boxers. 

Mulder groaned and gently pushed her away before it went any further. “Is it safe to..”

“The doctor has me on no restrictions,” she answered back hastily. “I just don’t want to move too fast for you. I want you to be ready.”

Mulder laced his hands through her amber locks, knocking her towel to the floor, kissing her again as his pent up feelings burst inside his chest, exploring her mouth, entwining their tongues, caressing her face.

He felt her fingers at his waistband, undoing his button and fly..

“Scully,” he whispered against her mouth and her hand cupped his bare erection. Skin on skin. Pleasure surged in his nerve endings and throbbed in his veins. “There’s not a part of me that didn’t miss this.”

_ Fuck _ . Scully closed her grip around his cock and stroked the sleek hot steel up and down. Mulder breathed hard and Scully moaned.

“Let’s go to bed,” she said in a heady rush of impatience. 

They kissed their way down the hall, Mulder almost tripping as he had to slouch as they walked to keep them from separating, Pulling off his shirt, hopping on one leg as he stripped off his pants. 

The way Scully’s eyes widened when he took off his boxers and freed his cock made him feel ten feet tall. She gave out a warning when he removed her robe that “her body had changed,” and he replied as honestly as he could. “Scully, I’m harder than a male porn star on his first day of work. Yes, it’s because it’s you, but it’s also because you’re more beautiful than the last time I laid eyes on you.”

Scully’s cheeks blushed and her pupils dilated. He matched her smile, both of them recognizing how much was at stake, and how much they both needed this. She turned away from him and he helped her remove her robe. He combed the soft strands of her hair to expose her exquisite neck, trailing soft kisses up the sensitive skin, leaving a wake of raised flesh. 

His hands traveled down her body, reacquainting with her new curves: her breasts, her waist, her ass. Soft noises released from the back of Scully’s throat as his fingers brushed over the inside of her thighs. Lust surged through him at the sound, and his length nuzzled the small of her back. Scully gripped the footboard of the bed. 

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Mulder, please, I want you inside me.”

Her insistence only made him grow harder, but he knew it wasn’t a sprint. “H-how.. What would be most comfortable for you?”

“I think on the bed, on my knees. I can hold onto the footboard, the headboard is a little too high, and if I lean forward… What?”

“Nothing,” Mulder said, but he couldn’t prevent the upturn of his lips. “It’s.. well, you’ve given this some thought.”

Scully lifted a brow. “During that second trimester, you have no idea.”

He helped her onto the bed and followed close behind, holding his hands at her waist. Scully spread her legs and his tip grazed her. Scully looked back at him. “Easy, Mulder.” 

On her knees, and hunched forward, her ass in full glorious view, Mulder gripped his length, lined them up, and hesitantly pushed in. 

“Oh God, Mulder,” he heard Scully moan. 

Sharp pleasure bolted through him. “I know. You’re incredible.”

Easing back, slowly he pushed in again, a couple more inches before easing back again. 

“More, Mulder,” Scully gasped, reaching back, her fingers finding his hair, tugging and twisting. “Faster.” 

He was so worried about hurting her, but his excitement built and her tight, wet warmth around him only hastened it. He groaned and flexed his hips as another wave of pleasure hit him. She felt  _ so _ good. The sight of them joining almost too much. This was Scully. They were finally together. 

Soon they found a languid pace, her hips doing most of the work, him aiding her movement, pulling it out and letting her push back on him to the depth she craved. Until her knuckles whitened against the footboard. “God, Mulder. I really missed you.” Her walls pulsed and squeezed him tight and he groaned. 

With a few light thrusts her body heated and swelled snug around his cock. It made them slide easier, faster. Scully’s jaw went slack as her eyes closed, tightening as she pushed back against him. Her breath was ragged and he could see her concentrating on her movements. It was intense and exquisite and the feelings produced inside him made Mulder moan louder.

He closed his eyes and tightened his fingers on her hips, losing himself in the feeling. Again and again, more and more. He missed everything about this. Her legs tensed and he felt her sucking him further inside. He remembered that feeling. She was close. A few determined thrusts and she cried out, her muscles pulsing hard and rhythmically around him. Mulder’s forehead leaned into her shoulder and he reached for the footboard, covering her hand with his as he shouted, pouring his soul, his love, into her. 

“Scully, Scully.” He kept coming, for what seemed like an eternity. It left him spent and shaky. He had to catch himself for a moment, relishing in the feel, and calming his heart. “Everything okay?” As he asked her he could hear the deep octaves in his own voice.

“Mulder,” she breathed out and her blue eyes sparkled at him. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sated look on her face as she made her way to the bathroom. When she returned, he helped her back onto the bed. 

They stared into each other’s eyes as they laid on their sides face to face. Scully softly caressed his cheek and he mellowed into the feeling of her fingertips across his stubble. He pressed his face into her touch, drowning in it. Mulder leaned over, his lips a breath away from hers, and he stopped to feel their familiar pull. An attraction like no other. Scully raised her face to his, brushing his lips lightly, coaxing him. He kissed her even softer in return, teasing her like she did him until her mouth opened and he could taste her. Scully moaned quietly at the contact. Not knowing exactly what to do with his hand, he used it to prop up his head, the other he ran gently into her hair, stroking it softly. 

Without words she tucked her head under his chin, her nose nuzzling his Adam's apple. Scully curled into his torso while he rubbed her back, pulling her carefully towards him until the bump of her belly rested against his tight rippled abs. From through the window he could see the last vestiges of light, painting the sky in orange and reds. White contrails highlighting the color in soft wisps. 

_ He was the only one she would ever consider marrying.  _

Elation washed over his body.  _ I would marry you, Scully. And raise that baby as mine, no matter how it started its life.  _

As if he had said it aloud she stirred and opened her eyes. He kissed her forehead once more and returned her drowsy smile. Tugging the comforter over her, they snuggled into their cocoon. Scully’s eyes closed and she mumbled right before her breathing evened out, “Don’t go, Mulder.”

_ I don’t plan on it, Scully. Not ever. _

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50887883713/in/dateposted-public/)  



	5. Occam's Razor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after and Scully is ready for round 2. Mulder is looking for the answers to questions he's afraid to ask.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50929231366/in/dateposted-public/)

The visions of the night gave way to the day as Mulder’s eyes fluttered open. His heart and lungs expanded to the sweet scent of the morning air and Scully’s soft skin touching his.  A ripple of tiny punches pressed against his abs, startling him. Scully’s bare round belly was still pressed against him and he believed those little punches might have been the baby kicking.

He kept still and waited. Nothing. Just as he was about to give up, he felt it. Like a wave across the surface of a stagnant pond. 

Emotions stung Mulder’s eyes. It was like the baby was trying to reach out to him, grab his… dare he go there.. daddy. 

With watering eyes, Mulder pressed his lips to Scully’s cheek and she inhaled so quickly she snorted. “Mulder,” she said, softly like she was on a cloud. “What time is it?”

“It’s early. The suns not even up,” he whispered softly.

“Oh,” she said and her hand brushed over her belly. “Someone is already up.”

“Yeah, they were trying to play soccer with my stomach.”

Scully’s eyes met his and a smile drove up the corners of her mouth. “Would you like to feel?”

Mulder swallowed hard and thought he might tear up again. “Yeah.”

Gently, Scully guided his hand across her warm abdomen. Without delay, the baby kicked and Mulder felt the spattering of gooseflesh run up his arm. To think underneath his palm pressing against Scully’s belly was the curled up body of.. their beautiful baby.. reaching out to him, lulled by Scully’s heartbeat, nourished by her womb, by their love. If only he could gather the courage to ask. Of all people, how could he be afraid of the truth?

Mulder looked up to see Scully staring at him, her eyes sending a shockwave into his chest. His heart bled emotion. Everything dear to him was lying right next to him, showering vivid color and vitality into a monochrome existence. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, his hand remaining over her belly, against the child his heart needed to believe was his. 

After a hot shower, Mulder shaved with the only razor he could find. It was a nice bright shade of purple, but it would do the trick. Learning from previous experience, he scoured her bathroom for a new blade so as not to rip off half his face. With a quick shake of the razor in the pond of water he created in the sink, he sent it through the snow drift of shaving cream on his face. He had to stop and laugh at the sound of Scully sawing logs in the next room. It wasn’t like her to snore, usually it was more a deep heavy breathing. Something else she picked up from pregnancy. Finished, Mulder dried his face off with a towel and headed back to the bed. 

Scully looked like she had a rough time since his shower. Pillows placed in strategic positions around her, a blanket wrapped around one leg. She couldn’t look more adorable if she tried.

Unable to resist, he bent down to kiss her temple. “I’ve got to go to work and I believe you do too.” 

“I already called in. I’m playing hooky today,” she said failing to bring the covers all the way over her head.

Mulder pulled it back down with a finger. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it works.”

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?” He said, preparing for her to tell him to shut up.

Instead she bit her bottom lip and closed one eye. “You want to play hooky too?” Then she extended her arm and her fingers took a stroll down his chest, awakening his body. 

“That can be arranged.” Considering he felt like he had been assigned a punishment rather than a job, he made a quick call to Skinner and when he returned, Scully reminded him to take the towel from his waist and hang it neatly behind the door; her expression pure and full of hunger. It sent an electric current of desire pulsing through him. Scully made him alive. When his light in the darkness beckoned him, he couldn’t help but respond. Their lips touched, their tongues finding the other. Scully’s rays heating him up, making him so hard so quick he groaned just to release the pleasure. His body wanted her, his heart needed her. He put all his love into that kiss, into the motion of his jaw, the caress of his hand down her back.

One of her hands rested on his chest, the other groping his ass. “On your back, Mulder,” she said against his mouth.

With some careful maneuvering she sat astride him on the bed, caressing his face, running her fingers along his cheek, to his jaw and chin. Her forefinger paused over his lips. Tenderly her other hand stroked him, then eased him inside. 

The sight of her, brimming with life, her breasts full, her hair wild, as she softly bounced around his cock, aroused him down to his soul. 

Her head tilted to meet his adoring gaze, and she began to move faster. Up and down, slow then fast, circling her hips, making the most delightful moans. Then she stopped. 

Watching the way she sighed, a frown beginning to appear, it gutted him. Gingerly, he asked, “What’s wrong?” sending his hand to comfort her thigh. 

“I feel..  uncomfortable.. Sweaty.. And you look amazing and.. Well, I just feel.. huge.”

His impatient cock pulsed inside her and he ignored it. “You’re not going to take my word for it, but I think you look beautiful.”

She flailed her arms. “I can’t even reach down to kiss you.”

Mulder raked his hand over his face. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around. Reverse cowgirl. You’ll have more control and I can sit up. Hold you.” 

Mulder curled his arm around her waist, underneath the baby, holding her against him, the other hand around his length as she slid around him. “Uuuoooh.” He flung his head back and closed his eyes while bolts of pleasure flooded through him. Scully began to ride him again, rising and falling, her rhythm quick and frenetic, he couldn’t help but flex his hips in time with hers, kissing her, lightly caressing her breasts, fighting the pressure of his own need.

With a delicate finger he smoothed her hair behind her ear, cupping her breasts, her back rubbing against his chest. “Scully, I want you to feel how beautiful I know you are. You feel how much you turn me on, how hard I am inside you? It’s taking everything in me not to come right now.”

Her moves became desperate, Scully gripped his fingers tight and froze, bracing her legs tightly against his thighs, her eyes closed and she released a loud cry. Her head leaned back and he captured her mouth. The hand he had beneath her belly dropped so he could run his fingers lightly over her clit. 

Scully moaned. “That feels good Mulder, don’t stop.” 

Mulder went with it, rotating his hips in time with his fingers, Scully squeezing his other hand so tight he lost circulation. “Just like that?”

“Faster,” she said in a whisper, her eyes now closed and in a zone. “It’s, it’s  _ so _ good. So sensitive." Her breath becoming ragged. "Must be the extra genital blood from the baby,” she panted. “I’ve never felt anything like this. Mulder, please, don’t stop." Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip. "A little harder.” Then as if surprised, she blurted frantically, “I’m going to come again.”

Mulder found it hard to believe how wet she had become, soaking him, her thighs, the bed. It excited him to the point that every movement was doubled with feeling. 

The faster Scully rode, the faster his hand moved to keep up. She was building, he could feel it, climbing higher and higher as she moved faster and faster. “Let go, Scully,” he begged, feeling himself starting to come, no longer able to hold back. 

Scully didn’t stop, didn’t slow, riding him right through his orgasm and then some, even after it became so overly sensitive it passed pleasure and went into a place he thought would make him pass out. Then Scully let out a deep deep moan that was almost a growl, her body milking what was left of his erection as she fell apart in his arms. 

Scully collapsed on her side and his body lined up behind hers. They were still the perfect fit. It was a peaceful togetherness. She made him happier than he ever thought he deserved. 

With so many questions eating at Mulder’s brain, when the sun finally rose, so did he, and left Scully to sleep. 

He headed to the only place he knew of to get answers, especially why they suspected him as the father. While he listened to Langly opening the eight locks of the Lone Gunman’s lair, Mulder took a deep breath trying desperately to wipe the freshly fucked smile off his face.

He stepped in and Byers took one look at him and glanced over at Langly who returned a knowing grin then looked at Frohike who rolled his eyes and nodded.

Mulder rested his hands on his hips. “Out with it.”

Frohike’s eyes fell to the ground and Langly started playing on his computer. 

“Byers,” Mulder insisted and Byers released a hearty laugh into his fist. Langly joined in with a chuckle keeping his eyes on his computer screen.

“It’s pretty obvious, Mulder,” Frohike said. “You just had sex.” 

Mulder pursed his lips, closing his eyelids until they were mere slits. 

“Relax Mulder, your secret is safe with us,” Byers returned.

“Yeah Mulder,” Frohike replied, “We don’t kiss and tell.”

Mulder realized he wasn’t getting out of it, so he just ignored it. “Well maybe you can tell me something about Scully and John Doggett.”

The three amigos started another round of chatty glances and Mulder’s patience wore thin. “Are they together?” Mulder squeaked out, he could feel his fear creeping into his diaphragm. 

“I doubt it,” Langly huffed, crossing his arms and spinning around from his computer. “We thought..” he started, looking over to Byers then back at Mulder, “..she was with you.” 

Mulder closed his eyes and shook his noggin like he was trying to clear it. This conversation was making him dizzy. “Why would you think she was with  _ me _ ?”

“Because Mulder, we saw what she went through, how upset she was during your abduction,” Frohike said, climbing onto the stool by their table.

“She never stopped mourning when you died,” Byers added.

Mulder scratched at the side of his head. “Of course she was upset, but that doesn’t prove anything.”

“So you’re saying that’s not your baby?” Frohike asked.

“What makes you think it’s mine?” Mulder returned, trying not to show his full hand.

“Do the math Mulder, she was pregnant before your abduction,” Langly said.

“Give it up, Mulder,” Byers said. “You’re in love with her. She’s in love with you. Go over there and ask her if it’s yours. Tell her you love her. Watching you two do the same dance over and over is tiring.”

“Yeah, Mulder,” Frohike said, “Grab the bull by the horns, otherwise, I’m going over there with a ring.”

“Settle down Frohike.” Mulder retorted. “I’ll go.” When he saw the doubtful looks, he added, “Now.”

“Weren’t those the same clothes you had on yesterday Mulder?” Langly asked in a faded Ramones t-shirt that looked like he had been wearing for days. “Might want to change first.”

“And bring her a gift,” Byers added. “It’s a nice touch.”

“And don’t chicken out,” he heard Frohike call as he headed out the door. 

Bring her a gift. What could he give her? He had already given her a UFO spinner telling her he loved her, a night of baseball under the stars, a medallion telling her how much he needed her, an antique mirror owned by his grandmother. He just had flowers delivered as a congratulations. He was out of ideas for Scully. Wait, this wasn’t for her, but the baby. 

Mulder headed back to his place, and when he got there turned his bedroom upside down looking for it. Then he remembered he had put the doll in the back of the top shelf of the closet. He stacked some file filled cardboard boxes that Scully had placed in the closet and balanced on them to reach. The tips of his fingers just about moved it and with one more swipe, he knocked the box over, tipping on the edge of his teetering stack before falling over. He reached, one, two bounces off his hand and he caught it sliding down onto the crushed stack of loose papers, flying across his bedroom floor and onto his ass. 

Inside, the doll remained undamaged. He traced the stitching with his fingers. His great grandmother had hand sewn the heirloom for his mother’s grandmother when she was expecting. It then got passed down to his mother when she was pregnant with Samantha. When they were young, his mother had told Samantha that she would give it to her for her child. Through the years, it had laid in a box on his mother’s shelf until she packed it away, not wanting to be reminded of what would never come to pass. Going through his mother’s things when he found the doll again, he had felt it was possibly a sign that Scully and him would conceive. When her IVF failed, it went into the back of the closest. Not wanting the reminder it stayed there. Until now. Once again, he had hope.


	6. Delivery or Carryout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A retelling of "Empedocles". Scully reveals her worst fears to Mulder.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50934327666/in/dateposted-public/)

The heat began to crawl up Mulder’s neck as he felt the woman behind the counter’s stare roam his body. It normally made him uneasy when women showed interest in him, but today it felt misplaced. Like she was treading in areas that now belonged to someone else. Leaning against the counter, he watched her wrap up the box in the baby paper he had picked out.

“Is this for a relative?” the lady asked, glancing more than once at Mulder’s exposed forearms. 

Self consciously he pulled down his sweatshirt sleeves to cover them. “My partner,” Mulder said.

“Congratulations,” she replied with a plastic smile.

Mulder was confused for a moment, but then realized she assumed the baby was his. _We’ll find out today, good woman. We’ll find out today._

“What color ribbon?” the lady asked. Mulder blinked hard, his expression frozen. “Boy or girl?” she clarified.

“I-I don’t know.” He had been so hung up with how the baby came to be, he hadn’t even thought to ask if it was a boy or girl. 

“No problem. We’ll use a yellow ribbon.”

Mulder looked at the time. It was only a little after noon. He didn’t want to call, he wanted it to be a surprise, catch her off guard when he proclaimed his undying love and demanded to know if there was another man.. was Doggett just the man she worked with... who was the daddy?

With sweaty palms Mulder clutched the large wrapped gift. She had said in the therapy session they just worked together. Maybe he was making a mistake. His stomach turned and his heart thumped so hard he lost his breath. His knuckles rapped against the door with two solid knocks. Then followed it up with a shave and a haircut, quickly hiding the gift behind his back.

The door finally opened and Scully stood on the other end dressed in her pajamas and robe, like he had left her. The thought that he had that much of an effect on her to be lounging in the afternoon... it must have been as good a night for her as it was for him..

“Muuuulderr?” she whined flirtatiously at him. “I was just about to jump in the shower, but I was waiting for the pizza man.” 

“You got something going on with the pizza man that I should know about?” He said it with a serious face, but even in jest he could feel the spark of jealousy rearing its ugly head. 

“The pizza man?” she looked at him incredulously. God she was cute with her bright smile and twinkly eyes, her shiny glow. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you just said you were waiting for the pizza man to jump in the shower.” 

“No, what I mean was the pizza man’s usually late and so..”

He squinted his eyes at her. She really wasn’t putting up that convincing of an argument for him and the irrational part of his brain was getting suspicious. Maybe not the pizza man, but was someone else expected over?

Mulder shook his head. He had to stick with the facts.

“You want to come in?” she asked casually, her terry cloth robe dancing around her cobalt blue silk pajamas. 

“Thank you,” he replied quietly. 

“I felt like I was stuck in an episode of Mad About You.”

“Well, uh, yeah,” he stumbled as he closed the door. “But small technicality. Mad About You was about a married couple,” He quickly took the carefully wrapped gift from behind his back and hid it behind the pillow of the sofa. “And we just work together.” Repeating her words aloud made his heart hurt.

“Yeah, well, you know what I’m talking about,” she said heading towards the back room.

“I do, I do.” He buried his hands in his pockets. The banter had helped, but he was going to have to take the scenic route to get his answers. His nerves just weren’t ready to be that direct. “What-what I’m trying to say is that, uh… we have no good reliable information on this man.” He watched her walking back to her living room and he started to lose his nerve. “I mean, what I am saying is the pizza man… is not above suspicion.”

He pointed towards her belly to underscore his point. 

“Ah, I see.” _Yes, Scully, out with it. The truth, not the baby. Not yet anyway._

He watched her eyebrows raise and he was a little overcome by his cute little Scully all pregnant and flirty. 

The mood, suddenly too light to discuss the baby dilemma, or maybe he feared the answer, but he deflected, raising his own eyebrows and used the muscles in his face, his eyes and his lids to point her in the direction of his gift now peaking from the throw pillow. 

“Is that for me?” she asked, her face starting to brighten with prospect.

“Yeah.”

“Nice package.”

“Thank you.” He tried not to blush at her double entendre. _Yes, Scully, and I know how much you enjoy it._

“What’s the occasion?” _Gee Scully, the baby wrapping paper might just have given it away._ He played along anyway. He loved the way she loved presents.

A cold sweat began to form on his skin as she sat and inspected the box, about to open it. _Keep it together,_ he thought to himself. _Don’t lose your nerve now._ “Oh. Uh, I was going through some stuff after my mother died, and, um, it’s just an old family keepsake, and I wanted you to have it.” 

“Well, I’m touched.”

Her sincerity calmed his nerves and a knock at the door interrupted his puppy painted gaze.

“Little Caesar, I presume?” He could see the dimple forming underneath her lips as she wavered slightly. She was definitely falling for him gushing over her. And, she liked jealous Mulder. Who would have thunk it.  
  
Mulder opened the door to a young man and slanted his narrowed eyes towards Scully who was playing coy.

“Hi,” she said, “Just uh, give it to the man with the funny look on his face.”

“Yeah, it’s $29.08,” the kid grunted out.

“$29.08? What’d she get on it, a tank of gas?” Mulder exclaimed as he pulled the cash from his wallet.

Just then Mulder spun around as he heard Scully pant and gasp. “Scully? Scully!” he cried in a panic. "Call 911,” he ordered.

Once the pizza man left and the call was made, Mulder placed another to her landlord, thanking him for agreeing to stand by outside to direct the EMTs while Mulder stayed with Scully. 

As they waited, Mulder willing the EMTs to appear, Scully gave him all her doctor information. By the time the ambulance arrived, Mulder had full blown panic bubbling just underneath his skin. Refusing to leave her side or get left behind, he flashed his badge and piled into the back of the ambulance with the EMTs. He sat with her cold hand in his warm easy clasp. Their hands spoke of the precision that only the focus of years of love could bring. He found himself smiling supportively, not allowing the oxygen tube across her face or her wincing at the continued pain, to break him. Underneath, his nerves were getting ripped apart by the likes of Freddy Kruger. 

“Her doctor is Dr. Speake,” Mulder relayed to the admitting nurse.

“Oh, he’s been called,” she replied.

“She,” he corrected, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. If it wasn’t for the fact that it would upset Scully, he would have torn the hospital apart to find her doctor.

“Who are you? The husband?” the nurse asked, standing as a barrier between him and Scully’s room.

The question gutted him. “No.” 

“Then you wait outside.” 

Before he could even react he heard Doggett’s voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Agent Mulder. What happened?”

He didn’t recall leaving her side long enough for her to make a phone call. “How’d _you_ find out?” Mulder asked.

“I was dropping something off; the landlord told me.”

“Are you the husband?” the voice of the nurse came interrupting them.

“Me? No,” Doggett answered her. 

Mulder looked from the nurse to Doggett and felt like maybe he had his answer too. Maybe they were only work associates and he had been merely deflecting his own fears. Before he had much time to think, his phone rang.

It was Reyes asking him to help her on a case. “Call me when you get here,” Mulder replied.

As he listened to Reyes drone on, in his peripheral vision he saw Doggett still chatting it up with the nurse. What was with this guy? Was he telling the nurse in private that he was her boyfriend? That he should be allowed to see her?

“They told us not to worry. They’re running some tests,” Doggett told him as he stepped towards Mulder.

_Oh, well. As long as they told us not to worry,_ Mulder thought, but didn’t waste his time on Doggett. Instead he stormed the nurses station, demanding to speak to her doctor. “I don’t care what I am or am not, I want answers, what is going on with Scully and her baby!”

Just as the receptionist had picked up the phone to call security, Dr. Speake appeared and addressed Mulder.

“I’m Dana Scully’s doctor. Can we speak in private?”

Mulder took a sharp breath. “Yeah.”

He followed the doctor into one of the exam rooms and she offered him a chair as she leaned against the counter. “I’m Dr. Speake, and you are?” she asked as she offered her hand and he shook it.

“Fox Mulder.” He could hear the shakiness in his own voice.

“How are you related to Dana?”

“I’m her.. I was her F.B.I. partner for seven years.”

“Romantic partner?”

“Work partner. But I’m.. I might be..”

The tall thin woman crossed her arms, closing her white coat, making her appear even taller. “You think you’re the baby’s father.”

“I might be. Yeah.” Mulder leaned forward and rested his elbows at his knees, his head in his hands. “Just tell me she’s going to be alright. The baby is going to be alright.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr. Mulder. I’m afraid you have no rights to her medical records or the baby’s.”

Mulder felt his shoulders sag. His eyes burned and his neck flushed. The cold empty tendrils of being an outsider crept across his back. 

“Fox? Just talk to Dana. I’ve gotten to know her pretty well over these last months and I think you may be pleasantly surprised at what she has to say.” Mulder looked up at her to see her offering him a warm smile. “Maybe next week you join us for the next ultrasound?”

“So, the baby? It’s okay?”

The doctor sighed and let out a chuckle. “I’ve got a few more tests to run and she’ll be under some sedation. Listen to what I’m saying, find something to keep your mind occupied and when you come back to the hospital and she’s awake, she’ll be able to share with you the results if she chooses. Okay?” 

Mulder gave her a tentative nod. “I’ve got a few things at work I can go do. I want to be here when her eyes open.”

“I’ll have one of the staff give you a call when to come back.”

*

Hours later and a cop that let him by with a warning for speeding, Mulder was back at the hospital.

The nurse had also returned and was about to stop him when the doctor told her it was okay. Passing her one of his infamous grins, he opened the door a crack and peeked into Scully’s room. “Are you awake?” he whispered.

Scully turned and it was more than obvious to him that she was happy to see him.

“What did the doctor say?” he asked.

“That I had a partial abruption. Which means my placenta started to tear away from the uterine wall.”

Mulder was concerned, it sounded serious, and painful, he wet his lips as he stared into her eyes, then down at the baby. 

“They’re going to need to monitor me for a while,” she explained.

“But you’re going to be fine?” Mulder asked in hopeful anticipation. 

“Yeah.”

He felt her approving gaze as his fingertips settled atop her belly, his full palm resting gently. The baby, as if sensing him, gave him a kick. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Scully’s expression turn dour. It was time to have that talk. They couldn’t avoid it any longer.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50934451127/in/dateposted-public/)

It was late in the evening when she was finally released to go home. They had hardly reached the second traffic light when Scully proclaimed with a pout. “I never got to eat my pizza.”

The list of toppings she spewed off while Mulder placed the order for carry-out made Mulder blink twice. The plans for the space shuttle were less complicated. 

By the time they got back to the house, Mulder ended up packing it all into the fridge. At least she liked the gift.

He joined her back at the couch with the requested ice water, giving her an awkward peck on the forehead before sitting down. 

Scully had dressed out of her clothes and back into another silk pajama set. Sometimes he wondered if she actually color coordinated the days. She cradled her mug of water in her lap and without words, they sat apart breathing in the tension.

Scully broke the silence. “I haven’t been with anyone but you, Mulder, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“The dates don’t match up,” Mulder choked out from his agony. “The IVF, it was too long ago.”

“Unless there’s something else at play,” Scully returned softly comforting her belly with one hand as she held her mug in the other.

A cascade of sadness flowed from Mulder’s heart as it washed over all the grief Scully had felt all these months, leaving pins and needles in its wake. “You think someone got to your baby.”

“My original gynecologist was Dr. Parenti. He performed the IVF treatments and was my doctor for the first 2/3rds of my pregnancy.” Scully’s eyes bloodshot and her cheeks heated. “I switched doctors because there were some incidents that led me to believe he couldn’t be trusted.”

Mulder’s stomach sank at the news like a boulder in the Hudson River.

Scully sighed and continued. “His clinic was implicated for participating in alleged experiments with the implantation of embryos of alien human hybrids. Women were unknowingly abducted and implanted with these embryos.” Her eyes were welling with tears and her hands began to shake. 

“But your new doctor says everything is normal,” Mulder reaffirmed, trying to hold back his own emotions.

“Yes.”

“And you trust her?”

“Yes. Absolutely. She has no connections.” Scully seemed sincere and he believed her whole heartedly. “I had another amnio performed as well as a chorionic villus sampling. The baby’s DNA is a match for mine. With a sample of your DNA we can check paternity as well.”

Mulder tried his best to put himself in her shoes, to understand. “So since you found out, you haven’t been sure.. Of the how..”

“No,” she replied in a soft rasp.

“Could it be simple enough to say maybe you weren’t barren? That the doctors, everyone, were mistaken?” None of what she was saying was making sense to him and yet, if he let it, it was. Still, he couldn’t give up on the hope, on that feeling gnawing in his gut that there was another way. “Could it possibly be your chip? The Smoking Man did tell you it was the cure for all human disease. Or your exposure to the spaceship out in Africa?”

“Mulder, they’re all good theories,” Scully said, taking his hand. He felt the pulse of their connection, her soul embracing his, sending electric bolts into his chest, exploding and expanding, heating his insides. Scully’s eyes, gentle, but fierce, like a haze of sunlight scattering and sparkling among serene seas. “I want more than anything to say, yes, this baby it’s yours Mulder, it’s ours.”

With a delicate hand, Mulder edged her towards him. Her back naturally found its place against his chest, her head beneath his chin. “Well, I know it’s been awhile since they separated the boys from the girls in biology class, Scully, but I do believe we did what we’re supposed to do to conceive a baby. In fact, I think we did it very well, many times.”

“But Mulder, what is the truth?”

He pressed his lips into her hair and took in the mellow nuances of her shampoo. “You fear this baby might share the same fate as Emily.”

He felt her lungs expand with a grieving breath. “I.. I can’t go through that again. I don’t want to lose another child. Not-not like that.”

His arms around her, he laid his hand to join hers, interlacing them at the top of her belly. “There’s a difference Scully, this child, it was meant to be.” 

“I can’t go on faith, Mulder, not this time, I have to know.”

“Then we will find the truth,” he assured her, his lips now at her temple.

She snuggled in against him, her head leaning back so her cheek could rest against his clavicle. “I want you to stay the night with me Mulder,” she said in sweet muted tones.

“Then that’s what I’ll do.” He nuzzled her hair and sent another kiss to her head. “So, there’s no other man? Because if you and the pizza man have something serious going on, I’ll step aside...”

“No, Mulder,” she assured him, “there’s only you.”


	7. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after "Vienen" and during "Alone".

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/50956517382/in/dateposted-public/)

“When uh, he gets old enough, you tell the kid I went down swinging.”

There really was nothing sexier than Scully when she got riled up, and with a surge of pregnancy hormones, she was pure fire, standing in her dining room poking her finger an inch from Mulder’s pectoral muscles. “Doggett told me you took the fall. They fired you? We can fight this Mulder, we can get your job back. We...”

He reveled in her use of the word ‘we’, but it was time to put a pin in it. “Scully, Scully. I handed myself to Kersh on a platter. They needed someone to blame for halting the drilling and the loss of the oil rig.” 

Her brows were knitted in a thoughtful frown before raising in surprise. “You sacrificed yourself for the X-Files. So they wouldn’t shut it down.”

“I have other things, more important things, that need my protection. I have, we have, truths of our own to uncover,” he said, his voice soothing and warm and laden with care. 

Scully’s Apartment, 32 hours later in the dead of night...

_ Absolute darkness. Motionless. The will wanted his body to move, but his extremities refused to comply. His lungs refused to expand. Consciousness trapped in suffocation, blanketed in panic, enveloped by nothingness. The smell of rot. Worms, maggots, nibbling at his decay. Sewn at the lips, his screams fell silent. Indulging his perpetual horror, unraveling the nerves like shoelaces loosening through the eyelets.  _

_ The electric shock of terror, his cold blood failed in its movement. Cognizant of memories yet they only blip along the horizon. Wrists crossed and bound at his chest Mulder dared to attempt a stir at his limbs. The hard damp box at his back, he sensed the depth of its location, the pressure of dirt, the smell of moss. The sense of linen mere inches from his face, and Mulder knew he had been buried and lay within a coffin.  _

_ Succumb to infinite peril, no stimulation for his conscious mind, despair reigned his soul. A fantasy that six feet above the wind might howl his name. Splintering wood from above broke him free. A green phosphorus luminescence broke through the dark landscape, through the barrenness of thought. “I am your son,” the green orb of a head told him. “I will save you, Dad.” The thin elongated hand, ripping the cloth at his body, digging deeper, piercing light through the scars on his chest. Sharp edges running across sensitive jagged skin, the fire of hell igniting his body. Unable to scream, move, breathe, pain was all he could cling onto of humanity.  _

Mulder’s eyelids flew open, drenched in sweat, his mouth opened to take in copious amounts of the cold night air as it came in through the bedroom window. Scully’s hand lay angelically at his chest. 

Unemployed, his therapy sessions screeched to a halt and as they did, his anxiety scattered and dripped, bleeding through the cracks of being. He had to remember to breathe. To unwill himself from crawling back into that coffin, to believe he deserved to be there, not to welcome the isolation wanting to seep into his bones. He felt himself clawing at the side of the cliff of depression, the dirt of despair burrowinging under his nails as he climbed. Slipping several feet, only to climb again, fighting against the exhaustion, the craving to crawl into the fetal position and spend the nights alone on his couch staring at the flickering lights of his television for countless days. 

Bringing him back slowly into the present, were Scully’s lips at his bare shoulder. Mulder shifted to face her, adjusting his pillow. They stared into each other’s eyes. Scully’s hand comforting his stubbled cheek, he gave her palm a kiss. She craned her neck to cover his lips with hers. Remnants of the night’s ruination haunted her breath, but his tongue pushed past until it grazed in the sweet taste of promise growing inside her. His hand threaded through her hair as he kissed her deeply, enjoying the minutes that flew while their tongues ached and lips swelled. 

“I’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow for my follow-up,” Scully said as he pressed his brain against the one that saved him over and again, following him into a chasm too wide and deep for known science. 

“Would it be too much to ask if we waited on the DNA test? The doctor told us we want to limit stress. At least until we hear what the doctor has to say during your follow up exam.”

“Mulder, you don’t have to come. No matter the results, I place no responsibility..”

“For this child?” Mulder asked. The stiletto was freshly sharpened and this time his gut bled icy desolation. “I want the responsibility. I am asking for the responsibility.” Mulder couldn’t read Scully’s expression, but his own desperation boiled over. “I want this to be ours, Scully. You and me.”

Her eyes darted frantically as she searched his and it stripped him naked. He couldn’t bear it. His mouth descended on hers and pulled her into a ravishing kiss, his own eyes wet with untold emotion.

*

“The tear is very small and from the results of the ultrasound and the tests we performed, there should not be a cause for alarm, the fetus is getting enough nutrients,” the doctor explained to them in her office post examination. “I do have some not so great news. I’m afraid I’m going to have to recommend ceasing vaginal intercourse and any other activity that might lead to achieving orgasm. The risk is too high for a more serious abruption or premature contractions.” Dr. Speake looked directly at Mulder as she sat at the corner of her desk creating a more intimate atmosphere. “I know this is difficult to hear, the two of you have been apart for so many months.”

Mulder shook his head. “My only concern is Scully and her baby. Could we have caused this to happen?”

The doctor paused. “There are studies out concerning the connection of sex as a cause for abruption, especially with intense orgasms or increased sexual activity, but don’t start second guessing. This could have occurred regardless, and remember, the baby is currently safe and on target for a natural, healthy pregnancy.”

Scully reached for Mulder’s hand and he brought hers into his lap as he squeezed it tight. “What about the FBI?” Mulder asked before kissing her knuckles and soothing the top of her hand with his.

“I’m going to have to insist on her beginning maternity leave immediately.” 

“I feel fine,” Scully interjected. “I’ve experienced no bleeding.”

“Even so,” The doctor continued. “You know the risks. Now is not the time to push yourself.”

Scully nodded silently.

“We already have the child’s DNA from the amnio and CVS, and the cheek swabs we took today from Fox should come back from the lab in about three days. We’ll be able to confirm paternity by the end of the week.” The doc passed along a comforting smile. 

“How accurate is the test?” Scully’s voice was shaky and Mulder could sense her apprehension.

The doctor placed her hand on Scully’s knee and gave it a double pat. “99.9% accuracy.” A sense of relief washed over Mulder. They would know the truth.

“So, we are shooting for a natural delivery,” the doctor said, reviewing Scully’s file one more time. “Have you considered Lamaze?”

“Yes, I mean, I need a partner,” Scully stumbled. “My mother would be willing..”

“The best partner for Lamaze is someone you can trust and rely on, that encourages you,” the doc said, winking at Mulder.

* 

Mulder opened the car door and waited for Scully to get in before shutting it behind her. As they pulled away from the curb he said, “It’s time to put the X-Files behind us Scully. When you come back, be a teacher, stay in forensics, go back to medicine. It’s time you had a family. Do all the things in your life you wanted to do that you haven’t yet, wanted to be.”

He looked over to find her staring out the window. “You’re right, Mulder,” she shrugged. “It’s time.”

The car slowed to a stop at the red light and Mulder moistened his lips. “I want to take a trip to Raleigh and visit my mother’s gravesite. I haven’t been there since Skinner dug me from the ground and they replaced the stone. So, I might be out of town a few days.” 

“I’ll be okay, Mulder,” Scully said, turning her head his way. “My mother is only a phone call away.”

Mulder gripped the steering wheel. “I’ll be back in time for the first Lamaze class,” he said, avoiding her eyes and narrowing his own as he kept them on the road.

“Mulder,” she started, “It’s not necessary.”

He gathered every vestige of courage. A different Mulder had risen from the dead and he would fight for his place in her life. In the baby’s. “Well, I think it is.”

**Cemetery, Raleigh, NC**

Mulder placed his hand on the cold ground, the new marker for a place where no one was home. The voices of the dead hung in the morning fog waiting for someone to listen and feel the expanse of universal love. If Mulder could only use their energy as the stepping stone, might he then become something greater than those before? His finger traced his father’s name. Even though his parent’s lives became a stormy sea in which they blamed each other for the wind, in death they turned to ash together, side by side. Mulder surmised his brain would never fully process that he too was buried in that same earth, but he thought being there, might offer a semblance of peace. 

Fresh cut flowers lay at the base of the marble stone. He couldn’t harbor the thought of letting it go bear. It gave a warmth he hoped his mother could somehow feel. Scully had continued to have them delivered as she knew would be his wishes and his heart expanded at her generosity and intuitiveness. With one last moment of meditation he departed. 

As Mulder passed the cemetery gates, he wrestled his cell phone from his jacket pocket. A strong frisson of excitement ascended his spine at his newfound earthly duties. “Yeah, Frohike, I need you guys to do me a favor. I’m going to need whatever information you can dig up on pregnancy, Lamaze, anything like that. Yes you heard me right. I’m going to be Scully’s partner and I want to learn as much as I can on the subject.”

**The following day...**

“Hey, ready to roll?” Mulder asked as he stepped into Scully’s apartment.

“I’ll just get my keys,” Scully replied. Her eyes roamed his body, taking in the gray sweatshirt clinging to his torso and the loose fitting jeans he still managed to fill generously between the hips.

“Hey, don’t forget this.” Mulder lifted the pillow up off her couch. “Relax the back.”

Raising his sweatshirt he shoved the pillow underneath to imitate her belly bump.“Breath in. Breathe out,” he said, mimicking the pants.

“How do you know all these things, Mulder?”

“I’m unemployed. I got a lot of time on my hands. Oprah, I watch a lot of Oprah.” The totality of what they were embarking on zapped him with an energy so electric, he could feel it head to toe.

“Thank you for doing this with me.” 

Mulder nodded. She was so damn independent. If he wasn’t the same way.. But he understood and he knew anything he said would only be words, she needed support and action.

He could see the trouble storming in her eyes. Something was bothering her. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know, I uh.. Maybe it’s hormones or this is just, I’m feeling so strange about all of this.”

Mulder felt that familiar kick to the diaphragm. A swirling hurricane of embarrassment fought its way up his spine. Was it about him or the baby? “This. Having a baby, this?” 

Scully shook her head as she lowered it. “No. No. Leaving work I guess. I mean.. I walked out of the office today feeling like a deserter.”

Relief washed over him. Damn Doggett. “You’ve paid your dues there, Scully, more than paid them. You’re concerned about Agent Doggett.”

“You know the entire time that I was down there, I had someone to watch my back.” 

“I’m betting that Agent Doggett can take care of himself. He’s a big boy. You’ve got to worry about the little boy. Boy? Or girl?” He just then realized, he had been so concerned over her and the baby’s health, he never even considered the sex. 

The corners of Scully’s mouth cinched up. “I had told the doctor I didn’t want to know. I think on some level, I’ve been waiting for you. It was something I dreamt about even when you were gone. That day, of you and I, finding out together.” 

**Dr. Speake’s Office**

Boom, boom, boom, boom. Mulder’s heart beat like the bass drum introducing a rock concert. He shook the doctor’s hand with a sweaty palm to which she greeted him with a congratulatory, “How are we doing today, Daddy?”

Mulder froze. “Daddy? You got the results.”

“Yes and you  _ are _ the father.”

“The test is accurate,” Scully confirmed.

“99.9%. I’ll let you look at the results for yourself.” The doc handed Scully the manilla folder. 

“If you could give me a copy. I’d like to keep it for my records as well,” Scully answered.

“Absolutely, I’ll have it ready for you on your way out.”

Mulder was listening, but his body felt like it was on a timer, detonated to go off in 3,2,1.. His eyes filled up, but he did not cry, he was just so happy to hear it, relieved… “Th-That’s my baby, Scully.” His hand naturally reaching for her belly, his eyes locked onto hers. He smiled like he had never smiled in his life. “I’m going to be a father.”

Scully dressed in a patient’s gown, her legs in the stirrups, the wand of the ultrasound pressed against her belly. The image of his unborn child on the screen, the heartbeat strong and certain. Mulder’s soul opened to the amazement of the reality before him, his sense of love matured above the grey of tragedies and all that now lay before him was Scully. And this baby.

“Aaand you are having a boy,” he heard the doctor say.

It took a second or two for all the new information to sink in, even though it was right in front of him. He felt his lips stretch wider into a gaping grin as he met Scully’s eyes. Her eyebrows arched for the skies. “A boy,” she repeated as her voice cracked. 

Mulder felt her joy and affection without words, reaching and touching him in ways only she could. Paralyzed by the situation, so real and tangible, he could only continue to stare at her in awe. His little Scully achieved miracles in herself, but also within him. He clasped her hand and pressed his lips to her forehead. She lifted her chin to catch his lips with hers. He felt their bubble come around him and the rest of the world blur in the distance. They were having a baby boy. 


	8. Maybe he'll play for the Yankees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I took a short break since my last chapter, but I am back! We are Before and in the middle of the episode "Essence". Mulder wants to do something nice for Scully before the baby is born.  
> This is the episode with the famous pics of the extra toothbrushes and Lizzy bringing in what looks like Mulder's dry cleaning into Scully's house. If you look carefully at the pic there seems to be 2 manual brushes and one electric toothbrush. They were really hoping you didn't miss the hints that Mulder was staying over. I'm sure CC must have been called off the set that day. Lol.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/51030562227/in/dateposted-public/)

Mulder felt like a man that had been blessed with all the riches in the world. Far beyond his dreams and what he felt he deserved. His eyelids rose with the sun to unveil a woman that he would have never described in his youth as the answer to his soul, yet his younger version, for as intelligent as he thought, couldn’t have known that there were limits to the mind and imagination.

Scully stared at him, not with fascination or even admiration, no, what he saw was love, devotion, or maybe it was just pregnancy gas.  He enjoyed spending the night with her too much. Since he had returned, he had been in her non-work company more than ever before. He felt as if he had missed so much already- Scully coming to him with the news of the pregnancy, holding her hair back with a damp washcloth at the ready, making love with her and battling against her insecurities, supporting her at every turn, feeling the baby’s first kick, first heartbeat- no, he never wanted these days to end.

Scully’s fingers reached out to caress his stubbly cheek.

“Good morning, Mulder,” she said softly. “You seemed to have slept well.”

“I did,” he rasped out. Actually, he had surprised himself by how long and deep he actually had slept. Usually he was good with only a couple hours and woke before the alarm went off.

“What will you be up to today, Mulder?”

“I got two tickets to the Nationals game,” he said and waggled his eyebrows.

Scully’s eyes peeled. “When did you start following the Nationals?”

“Today,” he replied, his lips lifting slowly in appreciative amusement. “They’re playing the Yankees.”

“Oh.”

He tried his best not to lose himself in the pull of her ocean waves. They were fathoms deep with their struggle yet they always pulled him into their warm sun-lit currents. “I’ve got an extra ticket if you would like to join me.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

He ignored the knots forming in his stomach and covered it with humor. “Well, since I knocked you up I figured it was the least I could do.”

“Mulder!” she laughed as color stained her cheeks.

“Game is at 4. Pick you up around 2?”

**Nationals Park**

“I probably should have considered the amount of steps and walking,” he said concerned, holding his hand out to guide her as they marched down the cement steps of the stadium.

“The doctor told me I needed exercise. I’m not on bedrest. She didn’t want me at work because she felt I might overexert myself, but not to cut all activity.”

The edge on her remark caused him to blurt out, “All I’m trying to do is look out for your best interest.”

“I know.” She sounded exasperated as she ran a hand through her hair. Mulder felt deflated. Why did he think a baseball game would be a romantic place to take her on a date? Who took a pregnant woman, due in a couple weeks, to a place where she would have to scale steps?

They settled into their seats and Mulder breathed in the atmosphere. An expanse of sweet calm air blanketed the ballpark, but Mulder knew somewhere above, swirled galaxies of brilliant stars. On special days like this, he felt their energy, similar to the ways Scully infused his soul. He closed his eyes to hear the telltale crack of the bat and crescendo of cheers to follow. The other team had doubled, but he knew the Yankees would overtake them in the end.

“You want something to eat?” He asked Scully, knowing it was good for her to at least snack every few hours. “Hot dog? Pretzel? Some grass from right field with some lite herb vinaigrette?”

Scully took her water bottle from her bag and waved it at him. “I’m fine.”

“You know I played right field,” he remarked, tipping his ballcap. 

Scully stared up through her eyelashes at him and his heart fluttered. “I think you’ve told me that before.”

“You’ll want to save your appetite,” he said, turning his attention back to the field where Mariano Rivera struck out the next batter. “I’ve got reservations at one of the most exclusive restaurants in Georgetown.”

“Mulder, what did you do?”

He tilted his head her way and gave her his famous cockeyed grin. “Today is my attempt to charm your socks off.”

Scully lifted her legs. “I can’t see my feet so I’ll have to take your word for it.” 

Mulder smiled and took her hand, caressing it with his thumb. “Since The Exorcist is your favorite movie, I was thinking before dinner we take a stroll down to the famous steps.”

“You sure know how to show someone a good time, but as romantic as that sounds Mulder, I’m not sure I’m up for it.”

Mulder shrugged. “Just dinner then.” He stared down at their laced fingers. “Have you considered any names?”

“For what?” He watched as Scully comforted her belly. Then it hit him. “Oh, the kid?”

“You said you wanted to be involved. I thought maybe we could come up with a name together.”

His heart drummed against his ribs, bounding with pleasure. “I-I guess I haven’t thought about it. As long as his name isn’t Fox, he should be great.”

“Or Marty,” Scully smirked.

Mulder returned her smile. “No, no Marty.” He squinted out at the field and cracked a sunflower seed in his teeth. “I don’t know. All I can think of is baseball player’s names and Star Trek. I think you might be better at picking the name.” Mulder contemplated. “This baby is a result of our journey. I don’t know that there is a name that might properly represent what he means to us. Our hope for a future in spite of all the plans against it.” 

The little boy in front of them played with his small mitt asking his dad all the players’ names, how to fill out the score card and what the rules were. Some other boys were with their dads a couple more rows further down, loud and laughing, shoving hotdogs in their faces and bragging about their baseball card collections.

Scully smiled at Mulder. He knew what it was for. Some day he would be taking his son to a baseball game. Maybe one day he’d even play for the Yankees. 

The game ran into overtime and as Mulder pulled into the restaurant valet, Scully looked at him with tired eyes. “Mulder I know you planned this all and I know you want it to be special, but I think I just want to go home.”

“Okay,” he answered worried for her and the baby. He’d hate himself if he was the cause of their harm. “Do you feel sick? Are you in pain?”

“No, no I’m alright. I think I just rather eat at home.”

Her face was drawn and pale and he realized she must have been exhausted. “Okay. We’ll get something to go.” Mulder stopped at one of their favorite places to get some hot italian food. On his way back to the car with their dinner warming his arm through the paper bag, he looked down the street and had an idea. One last chance to revive the evening and not have it a complete loss. He reached into his pocket and counted the cash he had, then disappeared for a moment and when he returned he asked, “Scully, you think you would be able get out of the car and walk a couple feet?”

“Yeah, Mulder, what is it?” She struggled to lift herself, Mulder helping her, he had a passing thought that her belly might have grown to be bigger than she was. With a bashful smile she was finally up and he escorted her by the arm to a bench, then waved four men over. Mulder nodded and they started to sing, serenading them like a barbershop quartet perfectly tuned with a couple jazzy numbers and 50s love songs. Mulder had his arm around her as he whispered in her ear. “Private concert. Front row seat.”

Scully tipped her head so it leaned against his and whispered back, “I think I just lost my socks.”

*

The next morning, Mulder laid on his pillow and watched Scully tranquilly sleeping on her side. Her chest rising and falling with each breath, inches from him. “Scully, I love you,” he whispered, drawn into the vulnerability and intimacy of the moment. “Thank you for letting me come with you to the doctor, thank you for my son. Please know what that means to me.” Scully showed no signs of acknowledgement, instead taking a deep inhale and an equal exhale. No matter, just being this close to her beauty was enough. He could pour his heart out some other time. 

He kissed her sweetly and bound out of bed, returning with a gift. Her eyes opened, and her face immediately lit up. “For me?”

He nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Quickly, she took it from him and ripped it open to reveal an electric toothbrush.

“To make up for last week,” he explained. “I know how upset you got when I accidentally used your manual brush, so I thought I’d replace it.”

She laughed. “Go look in the bathroom.”

He tilted his head and pointed at himself. Then walked towards the bathroom. There in the holder were two toothbrushes. He looked back to her smiling face.

“You got me a toothbrush.”

“I thought that with all the nights you’ve been staying here, you should have your own. In fact, you’re welcome to leave some clothes here. You can even use the closet in the guest room. I go to the dry cleaners for myself anyway, if your clothes need to be laundered..”

Mulder could read between the lines. Scully was proposing, in the only way the two of them could, that they live together. “I do sleep better here than on my couch and if there’s an incident and you need to go to the hospital, I like the idea of being close by.” 

“I’d like that,” Scully replied.

“I was thinking of buying the kid a baseball mitt,” Mulder mumbled, his toothbrush tucked inside his right cheek, the paste dripping off his bottom lip as he watched her in the mirror. “I can teach him to ride a bicycle. I was thinking of starting him on a BMX?” Scully passed him a look. “10-Speed?”

“Maybe wait until after I give birth to him. Give him a chance to walk?”

Mulder took the toothbrush from his mouth and waited for Scully to rinse and spit. “Is it too late to decide on pre-school?”

Mulder closed the door as he left the bathroom, allowing Scully to finish her daily routine in peace. In the guest room, he turned on the news to watch while he dressed. The report detailed the early investigation of a fire at Zeus genetics in Germantown. Mulder recognized the company Zeus from back in the early days of the X-Files, specifically concerning hybrid clones. Quietly, he snuck into the living room and onto Scully’s computer. 

What he saw made his stomach turn. Dr. Parenti, Scully’s doctor, co-founder of Zeus Genetics. He did his diligence and powered the laptop back down just as she returned.

Scully poked her earring through her earlobe as she spoke. “My mom will be here soon to start setting up for the baby shower. You’ll probably want to take off before the balloons and breast pumps arrive.”

“I don’t have to be social and I get gifts for my boy? Sounds like my kind of party.” Mulder knew exactly what he was going to be occupying his time with. While Scully was partying with the girls, he was going to scope out Zeus Genetics. He just needed a certain FBI agent to assist. The only one left in charge of the X-Files. An Agent John Doggett...

14 hours later…

The stitches Scully sewn hastily above Mulder’s eyebrow throbbed as her words echoed, “My baby is fine.” He should have been happy that she had changed her tune because the last song she was singing was laced with the flat notes of concern. 

Maybe his attitude had been soured by Doggett continuing to sit at Scully’s kitchen table and ramble on about every inane subject. At least Lizzy, Scully’s new helper, had left for the night.

“Dana, if you’d feel more comfortable, if you think you’re in some kind of danger,” Doggett said, looking at her with the concern and innocence of a young goat. “We could stay a little longer. I’d be happy to sack out on the couch..”

Mulder let Scully take the lead because if it was up to him, Doggett would have left shortly after arriving.

Scully shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s not necessary. They have no reason to be after me. My baby is normal.”

“Well, you know how to reach me.” He looked at Mulder. “If you’re ready to go, I’ll drive you to my house so we can swap cars.”

Mulder exchanged glances with Scully before turning to Doggett. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I, uh, it’s okay. I’ll be by to pick up my car tomorrow.”

Doggett looked from one face to another, then gave a nod of understanding, looking almost embarrassed for not picking up on the cue earlier. “Okay then. Guess, I’ll be going.”

Mulder closed the door behind him and locked them in for the night. His attention was now only on Scully. “I was watching the local news..”

“And you needed something to occupy your time while I was at the baby shower so you thought you’d put yourself right in the middle of the story.”

“The last conversation we had you told me you had fears,” he argued back.

“And you told me this child is not another Emily.”

Mulder’s heart sunk and he reached for her. Scully folded into his arms, accepting his comfort. He kissed the top of her head and ran his hand up her back. “Come on, I’m going to draw you a bath.” 

He turned on the faucet and squeezed a liberal amount of her lavish bath oil into the steaming water. The aroma of orchids and lavender greeted his nostrils. Scully stood at the doorway to the bathroom smiling self-consciously in her robe as he tested the temp to make sure it was less than 100 degrees because he read any higher could be bad for the baby.

“Mulder, I may be nine months pregnant, but I can still bathe myself.”

“Allow me to do this one simple thing.” It was an excuse to touch her, to make her feel good, but it was something he needed to do. “We can’t have sex, but we can do this.”

Somehow his line must have worked because she allowed him to help her out of her clothes and hold her hand as she stepped into the tub. He made himself comfortable while the bath filled with hot water and fragrant foam.

He grabbed some body wash and with it began to massage Scully’s right foot, his thumbs rubbing her instep. 

“Mulder, that feels good.” She closed her eyes and tipped back her head against the curved porcelain edge of the tub.

“Good.” Mulder was enjoying her pleasure. He gathered her hair on top of her head and placed it in a scrunchie like he had witnessed her do countless times. A few tendrils escaped, and her skin looked dewy and pink. Scully was stunning.

“I want to be a good father, Scully,” Mulder admitted earnestly. “My dad had his moments, but he wasn’t exactly father of the year. Our relationship was strained.”

“Mulder, I know you, and I know you will be an incredible father.” Her smile glowed so bright it was infectious.

Mulder enjoyed sharing her happiness. Her joy was his joy. 

Scully sunk deeper in the tub as she relaxed, the washcloth in his hand careful as they skimmed her breasts floating like dolphins in the ocean on a hot sunny day. A brief flash of the first time he had ever touched them cascaded through his mind and his pulse quickened. 

“My mother is driving me crazy trying to uncover everything she believes I am keeping secret from her,” Scully murmured.

“I love your mother.”

“Yeah, well, she wants to know the sex of the baby.”

“You didn’t tell her?” He asked as he bathed her arms.

“No. Not exactly. I hinted. I thought keeping it between us was special. Particularly because you weren’t the first to know I was pregnant.”

“Did you tell her that I was the father?”

“In not so many words.”

“She doesn’t know of the other possibilities that you feared.”

“No.”

“I will support you, Scully. You run this show, but if you want my input, I wouldn’t be opposed to telling her.”

“She had asked me if I wanted to come over to her house for lunch tomorrow. You could join us.”

“As your plus one?” She didn’t seem amused so he pushed ahead. “I’d like that.”

“Thank you,” she said, spilling water over the side of the bath as she tilted her body forward. “For the bath, for our date, for wanting to come with me to tell my mother together.” She placed her hand on his bicep and he leaned down so she could kiss him on the lips.

“You’re welcome.” He reached in to wet the washcloth again and wash her back. “How does that feel?”

“I’m a little sore. But not too bad. The water is soothing.”

Out of the tub, they brushed their teeth, Scully placing her toothbrush into the holder almost simultaneously with Mulder’s. “I like them side by side. How they touch,” she beamed.

There was a delicateness in her remark that really touched  _ him _ . They wandered back into the bedroom and got dressed, meeting each other under the sheets.

He noticed her adorning the t-shirt that he had left over the other night. There was something so sexy about her wearing his clothes. “I think I saw Lizzy bring in some dry cleaning if you ran out of night shirts.” Mulder offered, wanting to know if it was something random she had done or if it meant what it did to him. 

“No, I just like wearing your shirt,” she replied.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, closing his eyes as he did. When he opened them, Scully was staring at him, the air thick with tension, sparks of chemistry ready to explode around them. Then her chin tilted up towards him, her eyes falling closed and her soft lips meeting his. The bite of mint toothpaste and leftover garlic from dinner. 

The light touch of her fingertips against his chest sent shivers through his nerves. He pulled back just to look at her, take in this perfect moment as they stood at the precipice. The universe went silent, like the sky before a storm. His lips grazed the soft velvet of her cheek. Her eyes drawing him in. For a long time he kissed her, allowing the movement of their jaws to rule him, the draw of her lips, compounded by her knowledge of his heart. Their future opening up before him, pressing against his abs as she lured him closer and he realized he’d never have enough. He felt the world melt away as they dissolved into each other, between them, heat and electricity, promise and dedication. Scully gasped at the intensity and Mulder groaned low in his throat. Scully’s hands were up his back, down his arms as they kissed harder, deeper, but carefully. His hand reached up to trace the line of her cheekbone. Her hand wrapped in his hair. 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191821175@N06/51030842182/in/dateposted-public/)


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